


In A Little While I'll Still Be Here Without You

by imherecauseimnotallthere98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Bobby, Betrayal, Bobby Finds Out, Concerned Bobby, Concerned Sam, Crying Castiel, Crying Dean, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Faith Healers, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, Memory Loss, Men Crying, Not Really Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Requited Love, Rufus' Cabin, Sam Finds Out, Secret Relationship, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imherecauseimnotallthere98/pseuds/imherecauseimnotallthere98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate season 7, where after Cas walks into the lake, Dean sinks into a depression. Eventually, it becomes so bad that he starts refusing to hunt, and as his drinking increases and his eating decreases, Sam and Bobby both worry more and more about the oldest Winchester, and start to question why Cas meant so much more to the hunter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Little While I'll Still Be Here Without You

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of the first fics I ever wrote, so when I found it the other day, I decided to post it and see what you guys thought. As always, I own nothing and making no profit from this story.  
> The title is from a Uncle Kracker song by the same name, which I also don't own.  
> Unbeta'd
> 
> Possible Triggers for  
> -Suicidal thoughts, kinda suicide attempt  
> -Depression  
> -Binge Drinking

Sam shot his brother a worried look over the roof of the Impala. He'd noticed a change in Dean in the past few weeks. A change for the worst. His brother was acting...well, like himself times ten. He drank more and slept even less than his already unhealthy routine usually included. On cases he was spacy and moody at best, often sneaking pulls off the flask he kept hidden on him at all times. Sam couldn't even remember the last time his brother hadn't smelled like a bar. The younger Winchester had been woken up more than once in the past month by his brother whimpering, muttering, and sometimes crying in his sleep.  
He wasn't quite sure what had caused his brother's new behaviour, but he was concerned. He knew Dean better than anyone, and he knew something was seriously off.

“Dean, don't try to tell me you're okay.” Sam started, catching his brother's attention. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best way to start the conversation, but he needed Dean to be honest with him. He needed to know what was wrong. “I mean, you kept zoning out on that last case, the drinking, you clearly aren't sleeping. What's going on with you, man? This isn't how someone who doesn't feel guilty acts.”

Concern showed clearly on Sam's face as he watched his brother over the roof of the car. Dean sighed and ducked his head, breaking eye contact in favour of staring at the sidewalk.  
He felt bad about not having told Sam about Amy sooner, but that wasn't why he was practically climbing the walls. Part of him wanted to tell Sam what the real issue was. To open up to his brother and just get some of this crap out, but he knew it would just open up a whole can of worms he wasn't ready to deal with. Plus, they were finally starting to act themselves around each other again. Dean didn't want to fuck up that delicate balance so soon after they had restored it. He just wanted to pretend everything was okay.

“I don't know Sam,” he finally said, looking up to meet his brother's frown. “I went with my gut and it felt right. I didn't trust Amy. Mind you, I've been having a hard time trusting anyone after Cas-”

Dean's voice cracked a little when he mentioned the angel's name. He looked down and away quickly, clearing his throat in an effort to cover it up. If Sam noticed, he didn't say anything about it, just continued to pack the trunk of the new piece of shit car Dean had stolen while the Impala was on lockdown.  
They had just finished up a job in the “most physic town in America”, and all they wanted was to leave. Stuff like this was just too... normalized here. It was weird, working a job in a town of believers. They'd hardly had to lie at all. It was unnerving to say the least. Deception and fraud were hardwired into them by years of posing as various employees. Everything from carny sweepers and local journalists to Homeland Security and the FBI were par for the course for the Winchesters. Rolling into a town were they could practically announce their real job just felt wrong. They saw some weird things on their job, but this much weird in one town was just...off putting. It gave the brothers the creeps. It just wasn't normal.

“I understand why you did it,” Sam said easily, never looking up from organizing the trunk. “Why you killed Amy. You were right, if it had been any other monster, I would have ganked her too.”

Dean looked to Sam. This was the first time his brother had admitted to understanding why Dean had to kill Amy. Even though she only started dropping bodies to save her son, who's to say she wouldn't have started again, now that they had a taste for it? Sam continued, now looking at Dean.

“I just want you to know, I forgive you. We're good.”

Sam had hoped Dean would start acting more like his old self if he knew he was forgiven. That for once, this was the only thing bothering him, and acceptance for his actions would be enough to pull him out of whatever funk he was in.  
The older of the two hunters huffed in acknowledgement that Sam had spoken, and nodded as he circled around the front of the car to the driver's side. The younger Winchester felt his hope fall when he saw that clearly something else was still eating away at his brother.

“Dean?”

The older hunter was staring off into the distance, his eyes glazed over and his face a blank slate.

“Dean?” Sam probed again, slightly louder and with a bit more concern.

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked over the car to his brother.

“What?”

Sam looked at his brother with genuine concern, something was definitely wrong. What was Dean keeping from him now?

“What's wrong, Dean?”

The hunter was caught off guard by the question, but he hid his surprise well. Anyone other than Sam wouldn't have noticed it. Dean simply shook his head and open the door of the stolen car.

“Nothing. I'm fine Sam.” he said halfheartedly, getting into the car and closing the door quickly, effectively stopping the conversation. Sam huffed.

“Yeah, I'm convinced.” he muttered sarcastically, before closing the trunk of the car and getting into the passenger seat.

 

The drive back to Ruffus's cabin was painfully quiet. Sam refused to turn on the radio for fear Dean would start singing along to another sappy song, and Dean wasn't talking. Once they arrived, Dean said a quick hello to Bobby before immediately going upstairs to the room he'd claimed as his while they stayed here, ready to try to sleep. Like his brother said, he hadn't been sleeping well, so he tried to nap whenever he could.

 

It was just past noon, and Sam and Bobby decided to check around outside the house and make sure all the angel/demon proofing was still good. It might not stop the leviathans, but it gave the hunters a few less things to worry about. Bobby was looking over the symbols painted on the house and nearby trees while Sam stood guard with a sawed off shotgun, watching surrounding woods. The youngest Winchester decided to bring up what he'd noticed about Dean, to see if Bobby had notice the same thing.

“Hey, Bobby?”

“Mmhm?”

Bobby didn't bother turning to face Sam, and Sam kept his back to the other hunter. Both still focused on the task at hand, but both were still able to talk and listen.

“Have you noticed that Dean seems a bit... I don't know, off? Like something's bothering him?”

The man in the ball-cap continued to look over the symbols, adding a little paint to the ones the rain had worn out a little, but he directed more of his attention to the young hunter.

“Well, you know, this ain't exactly a stress free job.”

Sam lowered his gun further and turned to look at Bobby for the first time since they'd been out here.

“Yeah, but it's more than that Bobby. He keeps zoning out like he's thinking about something.”

Bobby finally turned away from the sigils to face the Winchester.

“Sam, Dean is dealing with a lot right now. He's worried about you and how you're coping with Hell seeping through your noggin, we've got at least sixty leviathans on the lose, probably more, and we just lost Cas. That would make anyone seem 'a bit off'.”

Sam nodded, even though he wasn't convinced. Dean had been in worse situations than this before, and had still coped better. Something else was bothering his brother, something big.

 

Dean woke up to silence. He was surprised he had managed to sleep at all, though looking at the time on his phone, it hadn't been for long. Maybe a half hour max. He sat up and groaned, glancing around the dingy cabin room. They wouldn't be staying here if those damn leviathans hadn't burnt down Bobby's house in the first place.  
The Winchester stood up and stretched, pausing to let the head rush hit him. They were becoming more and more frequent lately. Lack of sleep and all that. After unsuccessfully trying to rub the spots from his eyes with the heals of his hands, he headed down to the main level to find food.  
After grabbing a beer from the fridge that was actually working today, Dean settled down on the dusty couch to watch TV. The only channels they could pick up out here played nothing but Spanish soap operas and bad infomercials, but it was better than being alone, in silence with his thoughts. He just needed a distraction.

 

Sam and Bobby came back in a few minutes later. Bobby said something about going on a supply run to the nearest town, before grabbing his keys and heading out. He'd been half expecting Dean to make a request for more booze or pie, and when none came, he frowned, but said nothing as he left.  
Sam waited until the older hunter was gone, the deep rumble of his truck clearly heard pulling down the dirt road that acted as a type of driveway, before he walked over to the TV and turned it off.

“Hey! I was watching that!” Dean complained. 

Sam didn't care. He leaned back against the kitchen table and crossed his arms. He was frustrated that Dean was keeping something from him right after they discussed how keeping things from each other always made the situation worse, no matter what. They were supposed to be a team here.

“Alright, what the hell is going on, Dean?”

Dean knew what Sam meant immediately, but he really didn't want to talk about it. Not with his brother and especially not now, so he feigned innocents.

“What do you mean?”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's attempted confusion.

“You know exactly what I mean. You've been acting strange ever since the day Cas-”

“Sam, I'm fine.” Dean interrupted, annoyance as well as a warning laced his voice.

The younger hunter moved closer and sat down on the coffee table across from his brother.

“Alright, look. I know you don't like talking when something is wrong,”

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch. Sam ignored him and continued.

“But, something is obviously nagging at you to the point where you are distracted during jobs, and that's gonna get you killed. I'm worried about you man. So what are you so hung up on?”

Dean would rather be looking for monsters in a sewer than here with Sam interrogating him.  
The younger hunter wasn't dumb, and he knew his brother so well he would know if Dean was lying to him.  
Dean sighed, he didn't know if he could talk about this with Sam, but his brother wasn't giving him much of a choice. He continued to stare Dean down, unrelenting, waiting for him to start talking. Dean stopped slouching and sat up a little, he just wanted to get this over with so he could try to stop thinking about it. He wouldn't have to say much, just something to sate his brother's curiosity.

“Alright Sam, look. There is something bugging me that I haven't been able to ignore lately, but I can deal with it myself, okay?”

Now Sam was even more curious. Dean had finally admitted that there was something wrong, and whether or not he'd been evasive, that was progress. Sam wanted to push his brother for more info, but the truth was, if Dean didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to talk.

“What is it? If you're worried about me, don't be. I can deal with the Hell thing, it's my problem.”

Dean was becoming increasingly annoyed that his little brother was still pressing the issue, and it could be heard in his voice. Yeah, of course he was worried about his brother. He'd been worried about him constantly since he was four, more so since Sam started remembering Hell, but that wasn't what why he drank non-stop and woke up in a cold sweat at least once a night.

“No Sam, it's not you.”

Dean leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. Sam stood up and started pacing the room, glancing at his brother every once in a while.

“Then what? Amy? I told you, we're good, I understand why you did what you did.”

“Sammy, I know we put Amy behind us! Will you just drop it? I said I will deal with it myself!”

Dean heard his phone start ringing. That was probably a good thing because it wouldn't have been much longer before one of the brothers either left or threw the first punch.  
Sam was clearly annoyed at being interrupted, but Dean was grateful for the distraction and the excuse to stop talking to his brother for the moment. They stared at each other in silence for a few tense moments, only interrupted by the shrill ringing of Dean's cell. Sam was the first to look away. Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number before answering.

“Hey Bobby, what's up?”

Sam sighed and shook his head in defeat before he went to sit at the table. He listened as Dean asked Bobby about a case the older hunter had found.

“Alright Bobby...yeah we'll...we'll take care of it.”

Sam could hear the disdain in his brother's voice, which he found odd considering they hadn't had a cut and dry case for a long time, and that's what Dean had said he wanted. Simple hunts. The hunter hung up his phone and turned to Sam.

“Bobby thinks there might be a small nest of vamps holding up in a barn a few miles north of town.”

Dean grabbed his keys to the POS car and headed towards the door. He turned around when he realized that Sam wasn't following him. The younger hunter was still sitting at the table, glaring at the floor, thinking over their argument.

“Sam? Sam! Come on, let's get this over with.”

Dean walked out the door and headed to the car, Sam followed a few moments later.

 

Dean grabbed a dirty rag out of the car and began to clean the blood off his hands. He tossed one to Sam and started packing up the car while his brother wiped the blood off his hands and their machetes. Later, back at the cabin, they would clean them up better and resharpen them, but right now, they just needed to cover their tracks and get the hell out of Dodge.  
The hunt had been easy, Bobby was right about the vamps. There had only been five of them in the nest, and they'd all been asleep. The brothers had managed to kill three before the last two had woken up. Simple. An easy hunt, for once.  
Sam tossed the dirty rag into the trunk before he climbed into the car. Dean joined him soon, after he set the barn on fire. They had to get rid of the evidence, and with the vamps and the bodies of all the victims, burning everything was the easiest way to cover all this up. No need to cause suspicion and confusion in the local police station when the morgue attendant noticed fangs.  
Dean slid into the car and fired it up. The engine eventually screeched to life, as if protesting the very idea. Dean missed driving the Impala. He missed the deep growl and steady hum of her engine on the highway. Her throaty, challenging growl as she idled down, the one that made soccer moms lock their doors and look the other way when he pulled up next to them at a red light.  
But, a lot of people were still hyped up about the murder spree of their two doubles, so he knew it was best to lay low, and unfortunately, that meant driving this piece of shit around for a while.

“Dean?” Sam broke the silence. 

They hadn't spoken on the drive over, and only about a plan once they'd arrived. They had still worked well together. No matter what, they were efficient and always had each others' backs. That had been their dad's number one rule. Never let anything come between them during a hunt. When it came down to the job, arguments and petty problems were forgotten, and they watched each others backs.  
Though, now that the hunt was over, thoughts about their earlier spat arose. Sam still needed to find out what the hell was bothering his brother. Dean had been even worse on this hunt. He couldn't focus or stay on task, and it had been up to Sam to do most of the planning and killing. The younger Winchester was worried some vamp could have gotten the jump on them, because his brother clearly wasn't as focused as he needed to be. Anything less than fully alert was dangerous.

“Yeah, Sam?”

Dean backed the car out, before pulling onto the single lane highway. It was late now, and getting dark out, he was tired and just wanted to get back to the cabin so he could try to sleep. In the rear-view, he watched the fire engulf more of the barn, and the old, rotting building quickly burning up and caving in. Dean had already phoned it in to the fire department, and the barn was no where that it could spread and cause damage.

“Look...about earlier-”

“Sam, just leave it.” Dean sounded exasperated. He had blown off some steam during the hunt, chopping heads was great therapy, and he didn't want to get back into this now.

“No, Dean. Look, I'm your brother, you can talk to me about anything, okay? What is so bad that you can't tell me? Does this have something to do with me? Did I piss you off or something?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“What? No, Sam, this doesn't have anything to do with you.”

“Then what? Because I know the leviathans aren't bothering you this much. Does this have something to do with Cas?”

Dean had to really resist the urge to pull over and kick Sam out of the car. The cabin was still a good fifty miles or so away, it would be interesting to see how fast his brother could make it back.

“Sam, I told you, I can deal with this by myself.”

“No, Dean, you can't! You're trying to, but it's eating away at you. Look, I don't know if I can help, but please, talk to me. Tell me why you're acting the way you are.”

Dean kept his eyes glued to the road and pointedly ignored his brother. Sam huffed and leaned back into his seat to stare out the window, watching a light drizzle begin raining down.

 

The drive back had been tense, to say the least. Neither Dean nor Sam had spoken to each other, and the radio had quit working, so the silence was even more unbearable.  
Once they arrived back at the cabin, Dean went strait upstairs without so much as a glancing nod to Bobby. Sam flopped on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair.

“That bad, huh?” The older hunter asked, handing Sam a beer as he did. Bobby opened his own and sat down next to one of his adopted sons.

“Rough hunt? Sorry, it sounded easy for you two.”

Sam shook his head.

“It wasn't the hunt Bobby, Dean's just...can I talk to you outside for a second?”

Sam decided it would be best, less chance of Dean hearing them. Bobby nodded and followed him out.

 

They sat in the POS car, since the rain had begun to come down harder. Sam squeezed into the passenger side and closed the door while Bobby settled himself into the driver's seat as comfortably as he could. How the hell did Dean drive this thing? The boy was a good six feet tall, how did he fit in here well enough to drive?

“Alright, what is it? You two idjits pissed at each other again?”

Sam sighed.

“He won't talk to me Bobby. Something is really bugging him, he just gets quiet and annoyed then ignores me or tries to leave whenever I try to bring it up. You had to have noticed he's been different since the day Cas died.”

Bobby groaned and rubbed his face.

“Sam, Cas was one of the best friends Dean ever had. Your brother has been so busy worrying about you, and trying to figure out what to do about the leviathans, that he hasn't had time to get over the feathery asshole dying. It's probably just bottled up emotion that he doesn't want to talk about.”

Just then, an idea occurred to Sam. Something he hadn't thought of before, but made sense now. It wasn't an impossible idea. A stretch maybe, but not something they should rule out completely.

“Bobby?”

“What?”

Sam knew he should ask Dean about this first, make sure his theory was correct, but on the other hand, he wanted to know if Bobby thought the same thing was possible.

“What if...I mean...what if-”

“What if what, Sam?” Bobby asked. Frankly, he just wanted Sam to spit it out.

“What if Dean and Cas were more than just friends?”

Bobby wasn't sure whether to laugh or ask Sam if he was feeling alright.

“More? What? You mean together?”

Sam nodded.

“Think about it Bobby. Cas was a lot closer to Dean than he was to me or you. The way Dean acted around him, the way they would stare at each other...”

Bobby shook his head.

“Sam, you've seen Dean around women. Have you ever seen him look at a guy that way?”

Sam knew it was a rhetorical question, Bobby didn't think there was any possibility that the angel and the hunter had been a couple, but he answered anyway.

“No, but Cas was technically genderless, he was an angel.”

“Yeah, an angel in a man's body. Sam, your brother has always been into women. I have personally seen him trip his way out of a bar when a guy started hitting on him.”

Sam knew that if it turned out that Dean and Cas had been a couple, Bobby wouldn't see Dean any differently, right now he was just defending the hunter since he wasn't here to do it himself.

“Bobby, did you notice that after Cas had been around for a while, Dean stopped trying to pick up women? Most of the time he ignored them if they started hitting on him.”

Bobby guffawed.

“Well, your brother did have the small matter of the Apocalypses to deal with.”

“Bobby, stuff like that never stopped him. When he knew he was going to Hell, if anything he brought more girls over. But after Cas showed up, it seemed like he was more interested in being around him than hooking up.”

Bobby leaned back into the seat, pondering all this knew information. Sam had made some good points, and now that he had mentioned a few things, Bobby realized that they were true. It was really starting to sound like the angel had been more to Dean than just a friend.

“So, your brother might not have just lost a friend.”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, if him and Cas were together..." Sam trailed off, he knew how it felt to lose someone you love like that. Had Dean been in love with the angel? It would explain a lot, he was acting very similar to how Sam had been after Jessica died. Sam needed to talk to his brother, whether or not Dean wanted to.

 

Dean was laying on an old, beat up couch in the cabin. One leg dangling off the side, his foot flat on the dusty floor, the other leg flopped over the arm rest, dangling awkwardly and swinging lightly. His outside arm cradled his head, while his other was busy lifting a flask to his mouth.  
He had been trying in vain to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could seen was Cas. His angel, covered in that black filth, his voice hoarse and deeper than normal. He saw him walking into that river and disappearing beneath the surface, as the same black gunk exploded from where he'd slipped beneath the surface. He saw when the leviathans had taken control of the angel's vessel. Heard when they told him Cas was gone, dead. Their eerie smile entire wrong.  
Before Dean had found out that his angel was working with Crowley, they had been happy. There were still monsters everywhere, and Castiel's rebellion against Heaven, but they had found comfort in each other when they could. Whether it was cuddling on a bed to watch TV in some crappy motel while Sam wasn't around, or passionate moments spent in the back seat of the Impala when they needed each other. Even the simple, little things stood out in Dean's mind. Those meaningful looks sent his way by the angel, subtle touches of hands here and there, Dean missed all of that.  
He remembered how betrayed he'd felt when he'd found out that Castiel was in cahoots with the king of Hell, and not only that, was actually working against them and trying to open Purgatory.  
The hunter remembered one night when his angel had shown up at the motel to try to talk to him. That was the first and only time Dean had ever seen Castiel cry.

 

There were tears in Dean's eyes when he turned back to Castiel, but he did his best to hide them behind his anger.

“It's not too late. Damn it Cas, we can fix this!” His voice cracked as he broke down. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at the angel, his angel.

Castiel looked back up at Dean when he spoke next. His once gruff voice was now soft, barely above a whisper, and it quivered with emotion. He was crying too.

“Dean, I...I didn't think it was broken.”

 

Feeling pain rising in his chest, Dean took a long swig from his flask. It didn't help. He had seen a lot of violent deaths. People he loved being killed on the job, some people who he thought were friends turning out to be enemies. All of that had been hard, but that night had been the worst. He had felt such a profound sense of loss and anger and betrayal, that he really was surprised he had been able to act normal around Sam the next day.  
But, despite everything the angel had done to him and his family, Dean couldn't bring himself to hate Cas. He had tried. Man had he tried. He'd tried to think of all the reasons why he should be relieved Cas had walked into that lake, why he should hate the feathery bastard for betraying him, for taking down Sam's wall, for nearly killing them when he'd first gotten his power. He knew it would be far easier to deal with the loss if he hated Castiel, but he just couldn't. Despite everything, a small part of him had always hoped that somehow, they would have been able to get past all this and still be together.  
And he'd held onto that hope, it had kept him going, right up until that day Cas disappeared under the water. Now it was gone. Castiel was gone.

Dean heard a gentle knocking on the door.

“Dean?” Sam's voice was muffled by the wood.

The older hunter groaned, he didn't want to talk to anyone right now, or anytime in the foreseeable future.

“Can I come in?”

Dean sighed, but gave in, knowing Sam would only get worse and more insistent as the days went on if Dean didn't give him something.

“Yeah Sammy, come on in.”

Sam gently pushed the door open and peered inside. He saw Dean flopped on the couch, a dejected look on his face, flask in his hand.

“Hey, jerk!” Sam said playfully as he entered the room, trying to lighten Dean's mood.

“Bitch.” Dean muttered halfheartedly, before taking another swig from the flask. He was too buzzed to keep up the facade anymore. He was not okay and he didn't care who knew it.

Sam's heart fell when he realized that he wouldn't be able to cheer Dean up, but he forced himself to keep his expressions off his face, and get straight to the point.

“Look, Dean-”

“Sammy, if you came here to talk to me about my 'feelings' again, I will punch you.”

Sam shook his head.

“No, I just wanted to say that.... Dean, I am so sorry.”

Dean swung both legs over the side of the couch and sat up, leaning against the backrest, frowning at his brother.

“About what?”

Sam leaned against the wall to the right of the door and crossed his arms.

“About Cas.”

Dean sighed. He didn't want to talk about the angel, it was too painful.

“Sammy, that wasn't your fault.”

Sam shook his head, Dean didn't understand.

“No, I know it wasn't, that's not what I meant.”

Dean sat up more, interested now.

“Then what?”

Sam took in a deep breath. There was a very good chance Dean would react violently to what his younger brother was about to say, especially if Sam was wrong.

“I had no idea...about...you and Cas. I didn't realize what he was to you, so I-”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute Sam. Just what exactly do you think Cas was to me?"”

The hunter sat forward on the couch and listened for his brother's answer. Tension could be seen in the way Dean held his shoulders. There was questioning in his voice, and defensiveness in his eyes.  
Sam hesitated. What had the angel been to his brother? A boyfriend? A lover? Any word that came to mind didn't seem right.

“I think that you two were together, and that you loved him.” Sam said finally. It was about as accurate as he could get.

Dean wasn't sure how to react to this, his first instinct was denial, or defensiveness, but really, what was the point now? The whole reason behind his usual reaction to that assumption, was to make sure no one could ever use him against Cas, or Cas against him. But now, he had no one to protect. If people found out about him and Cas now, what could they possibly do? Mock him? Whatever. It's not like he wasn't used to that already anyways. He slowly relaxed and leaned back.

“Okay.” Dean said finally, somewhat cautiously.

Sam didn't know what to do. He was confused and a little at a loss for words. Had he been right in assuming his brother and the angel had been more than friends?

“Umm....so...I...sorry, what?”

“I said okay. You're right. So what? There is nothing that you can say that will make him being gone or what he did hurt less, so what do you want to do? Ask me how I ended up with a dude? Sit here and tell me how sorry you feel for me? Tell me it gets better?”

Sam shook his head.

“No, I just...I just wanted to say that I didn't realize how hard him dying must have been for you. I'm sorry that I pushed and tried to get you to talk about it. I know what you are going through.”

Dean stood up, taking a drink from his flask.

“But you don't, Sam. You have some idea of what I'm going through because of what happened to Jess. The thing is, she never betrayed you the way Cas betrayed me. Jess didn't pull you from Hell, or rebel against Heaven to help you. Before she died, she knew that you loved her.”

Dean's voice went quiet and soft on that last sentence. Sam frowned before realization dawned on him.

“You never told Cas you loved him.” he practically whispered, more to himself than anything.

It was a statement, not a question. Dean looked down and shook his head sadly.

“No, I never worked up the courage to say those three little words back.”

Sam frowned again.

“Back?”

Dean looked back up and met Sam's worried eyes. He hadn't meant to let that much slip. He took a long pull from his flask, grimacing at the strong, bitter taste. He felt the booze burn it's way down his throat, wishing it would help. Dean finally found his voice again.

“Yeah, uh, Cas said it once, and I was...Sam, I was terrified to say it back. Everyone I've ever said that to, I've lost. Guess I lost Cas anyway.”

Dean's voice shook, Sam's heart nearly broke at the emotion his brother was demonstrating when he talked about the angel. It was so clear now that they had been together, how had he and Bobby both missed it?  
He wasn't surprised that the idea of his brother being in love with a guy didn't bother him. Well, technically Castiel had been a 'multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent' and therefore had no gender, but he had been using a male vessel. Still though, now if Sam thought of Dean and Cas as a couple, it just seemed...right.

Dean kept talking, it was like he couldn't stop now that he had started.

“It wasn't like I didn't feel it, or want to say it back, I did, I just...couldn't. And now-”

Dean had to take in some deep breaths and another swallow from his flask before he could continue.

“So Sam, you don't know what I'm going though. Hunting for you had been a way to distract yourself from thinking about Jess, for me, it just reminds me more of Cas. I trusted him, sometimes more than I trusted myself. He was always there when I needed him, even if I didn't call...”

Dean nearly smirked as a memory of Castiel popped into his head.

Once after him and Sam had been fighting, Dean couldn't remember about what, he had been upset and left to drive around in the Impala. He had only been gone a few minutes when he started to smell something delicious coming from the back seat. He'd looked in the rear-view mirror just in time to see the angel's mysterious smile before he vanished, leaving behind a pie sitting in a box on the seat.  
That had been before Sam lost his soul, or the war in Heaven, probably when they were the happiest together.

Dean saw Sam's questioning look, but shook his head. He wanted to keep that memory for himself. He sat back down on the couch.

“I miss him, Sam. Sometimes so much that I can't stand it. Why do you think I still...” Dean trailed off.

“Why you still...? What?” Sam asked.

Dean hung his head.

“Why I still have his trench coat.”

Sam's eyes widened in surprise and he raised his eyebrows. His brother kept the coat?

Dean could feel tears building behind his eyes, and he wanted Sam to leave. It was time to wrap up this conversation.

“Anyway, Sam, you don't know what I'm going through, and no, I'm not okay, not by a long shot, but I am going to deal, alright?”

Sam could tell his brother was about to cry, he could hear it in his voice, see it in his face. He didn't want to, but he decided to leave Dean alone for a bit, and go talk to Bobby.  
He turned and walked out the door, closing it gently behind him. Just before he was out of earshot, he heard his big brother start to sob, and it broke his heart that he couldn't go back in there to comfort him.

Dean sat back down and listened until he thought Sam was gone, then he stopped trying to hold it in. A loud sob forced it's way out of him like a punch, and his whole body shook with it. He wailed into his hands, trying to muffle the noise. Hot tears streamed down his face and dripped off his chin and nose. Another sob hit him full force and he doubled over as it erupted from him. He sat on the edge of the bed, his whole body vibrating with emotion. He knew he should feel rage and hate, but right now all he felt was loss. It settled deep in his chest, making a home behind his ribs. He could feel it, heavy and making it hard to breath, like a weight dragging him down deeper and deeper into despair. His mouth opened on a silent scream of pain, and for once he let himself cry. The tears ran down his face and wails and sobs shook his body. His head ached and his sides hurt, but still, the tears continued.  
He didn't know when he laid down, or when exhaustion finally overruled anguish, but he eventually fell asleep, though through the night he was still plagued by dreams of his angel.

 

Sam made his way back downstairs slowly. Several times he almost turned around and went back to his brother, second guessing whether or not he should really be left alone while he was like this. Sam really didn't know what he brother was capable of in his current state. As a result, it took him a good ten minutes before he made it to the closest thing to a living room the cabin had. The Winchester flopped on the couch beside Bobby, a sigh punching out of him as he did. He had never felt so useless, there was absolutely nothing he could do to help Dean.

“I don't know what do, Bobby.” Sam sounded exasperated and tired.

“About what?” came the gruff reply, before the older hunter took a swig from his beer.

“About Dean. I talked to him and...I guess we were right about him and Cas. He's really upset. I don't know how to help him. He says hunting just reminds him, and not hunting is obviously not helping.”

Bobby took a sip of his beer. He wasn't sure how to help Dean either, but he needed to talk to the hunter himself before they made any plans.

“I'm gonna go talk to him, see if I can figure something out.”

Bobby stood and was about to make his way to the stairs when he felt Sam grip him by the arm. He turned and saw the younger of the two brothers watching him, looking slightly panicked and leery.

“I don't think that's a good idea. At least, not right now. Dean is... I would give him until tomorrow.”

The older hunter looked back to the stairs, his feet itching to move. Dean was like a son to him, everything in him told him not to let the boy go through this alone. But at the same time, he trusted Sam's judgement.  
The hunter finally sighed. His mind made up, he nodded and sat back down on the sofa. If right now Dean needed space, then space Bobby would give him.

 

The next day, Dean was the first one up. The hunter woke up with a nasty headache, and a pit in his gut. As slowly as he could, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch, wincing at the ache in his knees and back. The couch was too short for him, and he was sure he'd contorted himself into some interesting positions last night as he tried to sleep. He really should have slept on the bed in the other corner of the room, but he just hadn't been able to make it that far last night. He'd sat down to drink, and just hadn't gotten up again until now.  
Dean carefully flexed his legs out in front of him, feeling the tightness in his thighs and calves protest. He already knew the ache would begin the travel up and down his legs if he didn't get moving soon.  
He put on a relatively fresh shirt, one that at least it didn't have any stains on it or an overpowering odour, different jeans and his boots. Sneaking down the stairs and across the room as quietly as he could, he then headed outside, careful not to wake Bobby or Sam.

The sun filtered through the thick trees and lit up the outside of the house in a soft, red glow. Dean barely noticed. He briefly checked that the sigils and traps were still in place, then grabbed his shotgun out of the trunk of his car, and started doing a check around the place.  
It was all just habit, really. The cabin was surrounded for miles in every direction but acres of thick pine, spruce and evergreens. Sure, the house itself might be safe from most monsters, but they couldn't be sure about the nearby forest. Some of the closer trees had sigils carved in them from other hunters who'd used the cabin before. It belonged to Rufus last, but not even Bobby was sure who'd been staying here before them.  
Most of the sigils were Anasazi symbols, meant to ward against wendigos. Thankfully, despite how far north they were, Dean hadn't heard of any wendigos in Montana for years. That didn't necessarily mean there weren't any though, so he did his best to stay vigilant. Besides, if he focused on paying attention to his surroundings, he could at least lie to himself and say he wasn't thinking about Cas.  
Instead, he tried to think about the last wendigo hunt he'd been on. That had to have been... Hell, at least six years ago. Somehow it felt longer than that. He almost smirked thinking back on it now. He and Sam had grown up hunting. Both of them had been expert marksmen and trackers by the time they were thirteen, Dean a little earlier. While most kids grew up reading Clifford and watching Sesame Street, Dean had grown up searching out cases in the news and reading obituaries. Sam had been put on research duty once he was old enough to look after himself. Which, John had decided, was when he was fourteen. Both brothers had seen and done things most people wouldn't believe, and yet, thinking back on it now, six years ago, Dean would say that they had been innocent. Six years ago, their dad had still alive, demons had been above their pay grade, and angels had been nothing more than legends.  
Sometimes, Dean thought about that time. Before the Apocalypse and angels and the demon blood and his forty years downstairs. Hell, even before Sam had gone to Stanford. He thought about those years. In comparison, they seemed so easy now. The hunter wondered if, given the chance, he would prefer to go back to that innocence. If he would rather have never met Cas. If everything he felt now, the pain, the betrayal, the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment, the... insignificance, if they outweighed the love, the acceptance, the friendship, the forgiveness, the happiness, the safety the angel had given him. Even if it had all been just for a short while. He didn't know.

 

When he got back to the cabin about an hour later, Sam and Bobby were awake and sitting on the couch. They looked like two parents waiting for their teenager who'd snuck out to go to a party. Sam looked up when Dean came inside.

“Hey. Where were you? You left your cell here.”

“Just doing a check, Sam, relax.” Dean mumbled, not meeting his brother's concerned gaze as he closed the door. “I can take care of myself.”

Bobby heard the annoyance in Dean's voice, as well as the added weight he gave to the words when he said he could take care of himself. He almost sounded... defensive. He decided it was time he spoke to the oldest Winchester himself.

“Dean, can I see you outside for a minute?”

Dean groaned, but followed the older hunter out, knowing that it wasn't really a question. Bobby hadn't even waited for an answer before he was heading out the door. The Winchester was tired and wanted to sit, but he knew better.  
Once they were outside and far enough away from the cabin that Bobby was sure Sam wouldn't hear them, and that Dean would realize that, the man in the ball-cap turned to his adoptive son.

“Alright, you need to sum everything up. Now. What was the going on between you and Cas?”

Dean was really uncomfortable talking about this with Bobby. Sam was one thing, but Dean wasn't so sure Bobby would be as accepting. And he didn't know what he would do if Bobby wasn't okay with it. The guy was family, and the Winchesters didn't have much of that left. He would hate to lose any of it because of this.  
However, Dean knew there was no point in lying. He was sure his brother had already told Bobby everything, the older hunter just wanted to hear Dean say it himself.

“Me and Cas were a...ah, well...we were together, if that's what you mean.”

Bobby nodded.

“Okay.”

He accepted it. Fully. It was Dean's choice and none of the older hunter's business. Besides, there was nothing wrong with it.  
Dean was surprised that Bobby had taken that in stride, but then, it took a lot to faze an experienced hunter. The ball-caped man continued.

“And?”

Dean felt anger flare at Bobby's question. What did he mean 'and'?

“And what, Bobby? What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “That he pulled me from Hell and rebelled against Heaven to help me? That I trusted him completely? That he threw it all away like it didn't matter, like I didn't matter, to work with some demon? That I still miss him anyway?"

Bobby was surprised at Dean's reaction.

“We're trying to help you, son.”

Dean tried to calm himself down, and lowered his voice the next time he spoke. He didn't want to yell at Bobby, he just hadn't been able to help it.

“I know you and Sam are trying to help me, Bobby, but there is nothing either of you can do, okay? Nothing can make me stop thinking about him, what he did, what I could have done to stop him, or what I never said to him. Hunting doesn't distract me, booze doesn't dull the pain anymore, and talking about it makes it worse, because now I can't even try to ignore it.”

“So what are you saying? You want us to just sit there and watch you sulk?”

Now Bobby sounded pissed.

“I'm saying, there is nothing either of you can do, so don't try.”

Bobby shook his head and stormed off. Dean sighed, if they would just let him deal with this on his own...

 

“Your brother is this close to having a meltdown.” Bobby told Sam as he entered the cabin. Sam sighed.

“Yeah, I know, but what can we do?”

Bobby threw in hand up in frustration.

“Hell if I know! The ideal thing to do would be to bring that feathery bastard back, but we have no way to do that. I don't know what to do, but we can't just sit here with our thumbs up our asses waiting for Dean to snap. There has to be something we can do, or someone that can help.”

Sam paused. He had an idea, but he wasn't sure if it was a good one. Or even a possible one. He'd certainly never heard of it working on that kind of level, but maybe...

“What about a faith healer?”

Bobby turned to face Sam. He hadn't been there himself, but he'd heard about the last faith healer the younger brother had found. Reaper on a leash, and in the hands of a conservative, backwards preacher's wife. Not exactly a great solution to anything. Even if it had worked for Dean, if it had saved him once, some other poor bastard had died for it. The guy hadn't 'cured' anything. He'd transferred the Winchester's heart attack to someone else.

“You so sure that's a good idea, Sam?” Bobby cautioned. "The last one you guys found wasn't exactly squeaky clean or innocent. How do you know you can find the real deal? Not to mention, I never heard of one that can 'cure' sadness. They cure sickness, don't they?"

Sam nodded. It was true that the last faith healer had been a fake, his wife had been helping him by controlling a reaper. And Sam hadn't heard of one curing emotional problems, but there had to be a healer that was the real deal, and powerful enough to help Dean. Maybe one that could heal his mental state.

“I don't know, Bobby. Maybe they are all fakes, but it's the only idea we have, I think it's worth at least looking in to. We might get lucky.”

Bobby didn't know if it was a good idea. The last thing Dean would want would be for some poor shmuck to have to take the fall for his problems. If they tried to help the older brother, and ended up hurting someone else, Dean would feel even worse. But they did need to do something to help Dean, and Bobby supposed a faith healer was worth a shot.

“Alright, I'll start making calls. See if anyone knows about a genuine healer.”

 

“Well?”

It had been three days now since Bobby had started calling other hunters and friends, asking about faith healers, and Sam wanted to know if the older hunter had found anything or heard back from anyone.  
The older hunter had been as vague as possible, for Dean's sake. He was well respected, or at least feared, in the hunting community. He would lose a lot of his credibility if a word of this got out. Even hunters who had dealt with the Winchester before wouldn't take him seriously if they heard about Cas or the depression. Sadly, many of them shared John's old mentality.

Bobby groaned, stretched and leaned back into the chair he was sitting in. It wasn't even noon yet and he was already exhausted after spending hours on the phone and computer.

“I talked to some friends, left messages with the rest to call me back. So far, nothing.”

Sam sighed. He was really starting to worry about Dean now. His brother hadn't eaten and had barely slept since the day Bobby had spoken to him. He was getting worse. It was rare that he came down from his room, and Sam was pretty sure the only thing he had been drinking these last few days was whiskey. It wasn't so much that Dean refused to eat, as it was he forgot, and it wasn't like he couldn't sleep, he was just too busy drinking. They needed to find someone or something to help him. Fast.

 

Another two days passed before Bobby informed Sam that everyone he'd called had phoned back. None of them had any information that the two hunters were looking for. Sam had to leave the cabin and go for a drive to calm down. He wasn't angry at Bobby, it wasn't his fault that none of his friends could help them, Sam was just scared for his brother.  
Dean was getting worse. He usually just stretched out on the couch upstairs, sometimes he asked for another beer, most of the time he just asked to be left alone. He only ate when Bobby practically sat with him and watched to make sure he did.  
Sam knew that if they didn't figure out something soon, his brother wouldn't be around much longer. No human being could treat their body like this and last very long.  
Bobby wasn't doing much better than Sam. Dean was like a son to him, and watching the guy just wasting away was killing him. He had gotten Dean to eat something that day, only because he stood there and watched the oldest brother eat half a burger before he said he was full and tossed the other half onto the table. Bobby sighed.

“You break my heart, kid.”

There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in the hunter's voice, he genuinely felt bad for Dean. Bobby wanted to try and talk some sense into him, but he knew the younger hunter wouldn't listen, so he'd left him alone and went back downstairs.

 

Dean felt bad, in every sense of the word. He felt bad for worrying Bobby and Sam, he felt bad that he couldn't just get over it, he felt bad that even after everything Castiel had done, he still missed his angel. Not only did he feel bad, he felt sick. Really sick.

“I guess that's what you get for barely sleeping and living off of booze for...six days? God, has it only been that long?” Dean thought to himself.

The hunter wasn't fooling himself, he knew that he was being pathetic, but he just couldn't find it in himself to stop it and move on. Cas had done some serious damage to him. He didn't know what could possibly fix it.

 

Bobby was at his wits end. He'd called everyone he could think of and asked them to call around, even going as far as calling hunters he wasn't exactly on the best terms with, and practically begging for their help. After a couple of days, it seemed like he'd talked to every hunter, psychic and supplier in the country, and still, nothing. No one could help, and now he was panicking. He didn't know what would happen to the hunter if they didn't come up with something soon.

 

Bobby was pacing the room, trying to calm down. Sam had taken off a while ago, heading to town for a supply run.  
Everyone had called back. He'd checked every resource he had at his disposal, as well as a few he didn't, and he'd found nothing. He'd been reading up on depression, loss, and coping, and it all seemed like horse shit. No way Dean would agree with any of it. He'd been raise to hide his problems, and resolve them in private with booze and spurts of violence. All this 'talking it out' and 'try changing your routine' crap would not work on the hunter.  
Out of sheer frustration, Bobby hurled his journal across the room. It hit the wall hard with a satisfyingly loud bang. When Bobby finally calmed himself down enough to pick up the journal, he noticed a card on the floor beside it. Picking it up and turning it over, the ball-caped man noticed a phone number on the back that he hadn't seen at first.. Thinking 'what the hell', Bobby decided to call and see if whoever it was could help. No one answered, but he left his number and a message telling them to call him back when they could. Not having any idea who he'd called, he'd been fairly vague, only saying that he was looking for a faith healer. He figured the number at least belonged to someone in the hunting community, he didn't really know anyone who wasn't.

Just then, Sam came back inside. Bobby knew instantly that the drive had done nothing to calm him down. The older hunter decided not to get Sam's hopes up by telling him he had found one more person to try, and simply went about making a crappy little supper of beans on toast.  
The youngest Winchester asked for an update on his brother, before stretching out on the couch to try to sleep. Bobby followed suit soon after, finding his own place to rest for the night.

 

The next morning, Sam was woken early by the shrill ringing of Bobby's cell phone. He wasn't sure who would be calling the older hunter, but he answered it anyway, seeing that said hunter was still asleep.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice raspy with the disuse of sleep.

Whoever was calling paused, obviously not recognizing the voice on the other end. It finally replied.

“Hello? Who's this? I think I might have the wrong number.” said a man's voice on the other end of the phone. He had a slight drawl when he spoke. Not exactly southern, more small town.

Sam stood up, yawned and stretched.

“You were calling Bobby, right?”

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Sam. A friend of Bobby's. Who are you?”

The voice paused again before it cautiously replied.

“Matthew. Should I call back later?”

“No, whatever you were calling Bobby for you can tell me.”

Another pause.

“Are you...?”

Sam knew what the unasked question was; “Are you a hunter?”

Matthew didn't want to start talking about monsters to someone who didn't know they were out there, hunters had to tread carefully. Sam realized he still hadn't answered.

“I'm in the same line of business as Bobby, if that's what you mean. Do you need backup or something?”

Matthew laughed. Sam got the impression he never called for backup, or at least, he never called Bobby for backup.

“No, Bobby called me asking about faith healers. He was looking for the real deal, right?”

Sam woke up more when he heard that. Reflexively, his back straightened and he stood up taller. Any sluggishness in his movements was gone, and he couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Yeah, he was. Did you find one?”

Matthew hesitated, it was clear he would really rather be talking to Bobby, but he figured he could tell Sam.  
The Winchester started pacing the room, waiting and trying to stay calm. Matthew finally said something.

“I think I did. I heard about this guy a few months back. His name is Emanuel.”

Sam didn't recognize the name, but his still paid attention to every word.

“He was healing the sick, fixing the crazy, stuff like that. Naturally, I though something wasn't right, so I decided to check it out.”

Sam nodded, it's what any good hunter would do.

“I found out the best way to get to him is through the woman he lives with, in Colorado. I found out where they live, went to pay her a visit. Emanuel wasn't there, but I spoke to her. Told her I was going blind. That was the truth. My right eye was burnt out."

The younger hunter felt a twinge of sympathy for the stranger. Hunting was a dangerous job, anything could happen. Matthew kept talking.

“She told me, 'Go home, he'll come.' So, I went. Set all the traps and tests in the book, and waited.”

Sam nodded.

“That's what I would have done.”

Matthew continued.

“A few hours later, Emanuel shows up. Passes every trap and test, there's nothing weird about this guy, except...”

“What?”

“Well, he touched me, and my eye healed.”

Sam felt the small flicker of hope surge into a flame. He tried to keep his voice from shaking with excitement when he spoke next.

“So, this guy is the real deal then?”

“Like I said, I was going blind. Now? My vision has never been better. This guy, well, he's worth checking out. I can give you the address.”

Sam was so focused on controlling his breathing, that he nearly forgot to reply. He grabbed a pen and a notepad, holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah please.”

After copying down the address Matthew had given him, and thanking him profusely, Sam hung up and went to wake up Bobby. One of them had some driving to do.

 

They agreed that Sam should go and Bobby should stay behind to keep an eye on Dean. After all, he was the only one who could get the dejected hunter to eat anything, and Colorado was a good sixteen hours away. Sam was more accustomed to long drives, and he planned on leaving that day. With enough coffee and some luck, he might be able to be back late in two days. Maybe sooner if Emanuel drove a bit too.  
Sam grabbed the keys to his own stolen POS truck and hit the road within an hour of waking up. He had a lot of driving to do.

 

The next day, around four in the afternoon, Sam pulled up outside the house Matthew had given him the address for. He was exhausted, having only stopped three times on his way here. Twice for a bathroom break/coffee refill, and once for a short nap on the side of the road when he'd started head bobbing at the wheel. But, at least he'd made it.  
It was a simple enough house. Two story, bushes lining the walkway, a few stairs leading up to the door. Nice, big windows, a patio. It looked like a family home, the type of place Sam used to think about living in.  
The Winchester parked his truck across the street, got out, and made his way up the stairs to the front door, trying to keep his excitement down. He knocked and waited. A few moments later, a man answered the door.

“Can I help you?”

Sam wasn't sure if this man was Emanuel, something about him felt off.

“I'm uh, looking for Emanuel?”

The man stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him.

“Well, you found him.”

Sam's eyebrows shot up.

“You're Emanuel?”

That's when the hunter glanced in through the window, and saw a woman gagged and tied to a chair in the living room. He looked back frantically to the man, who blinked, revealing black eyes.  
Sam was spun and thrown against the door before he could react. The demon laughed. Sam needed to get to the knife, and fast. The demon quickly pinned him, getting an arm nudged under the hunter's chin and against his neck, his other arm coming up to push on the hunter's chest.

“Your boss said you guys are meant to leave us alone.”

The demon smiled.

“True, but what have you done for him lately?”

Sam shoved the demon back hard and pulled the knife from his belt, preparing himself to fight. The demon's smile vanished when he saw the blade. He lunged for Sam again, but the hunter blocked him easily and stabbed the knife into the black eyed man's stomach. Orange lights flickered from his open mouth and wide eyes, before Sam pulled the knife out and shoved the body away. It rolled down the stairs to the side walk, stopping at a man's feet. Sam panicked a little. He thought fast.

"How am I going to explain what that thing was to-"

That's when Sam got a good look at the man's face. Castiel. It was Castiel! He looked a little different, especially without his trademark over-coat, instead wearing a blue sweater and beige slacks, but it was him! He was alive and here! Sam didn't know if he should hug him or beat the shit out of him. Yeah, like the hunter could beat up an angel.  
He was too stunned to speak, only able to gape at the being he'd once called a friend. That's when Cas spoke, he sounded scared and confused, fear showing on his face. It looked so out of place on the angel.

“What was that? Who are you?”

Now Sam was confused. How could Cas not remember him, after everything they had been through? What was going on?  
The angel suddenly looked past Sam, towards the house, his eyes widening. He ran up the stairs and inside. Sam followed, too shocked to do anything else.  
He came in to see Cas untying the woman in the living room. He had never seen the angel that scared or genuinely afraid for someone else, other than maybe Dean.

“Did that creature hurt you, Amelia?”

Amelia looked like she was about to cry, but she shook her head. Castiel helped her stand, when he spoke, Sam wasn't sure who was being addressed.

“I saw it's face, it's true face. It wasn't human.”

“It was a demon.” Sam clarified, though he didn't know why Cas didn't know that already. His confusion grew when shock appeared on the angel's face.

“A demon walked the earth?”

“Demons.” Sam put emphases on the S. None of this was making sense, why was Cas acting like this? It didn't make any sense, unless...

Cas' voice was calmer and soft when he spoke again

“I am Emanuel, this is Amelia.”

Now all the pieces clicked. Castiel was Emanuel. Somehow, the angel had survived the leviathans, but didn't remember any of his past life, or who he was. That explained why he was a genuine healer. He was still an angel. Sam shook Emanuel's outstretched hand, his own shaking a little as he did his best to act like he didn't know the man in front of him.

“Sam. I was looking for you actually.”

Amelia chimed in, she seemed calmer now too.

“Ah yes, many people come to see him. Emanuel has great gifts.”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I've been hearing about...Emanuel's gifts. That's why I'm here.”

Emanuel seemed to get into what could only be described as a work mode. The last of his nervousness and fear seemed to vanish, and he concentrated.

“What's your problem?”

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to Emanuel's directness, even though it was a typical Castiel thing. He was left sputtering for an answer.

“Um...it's...actually, it's my brother. He really needs you. Your help, I mean.” Sam corrected.

Emanuel simply stared at him. Sam almost smiled, the angel hadn't changed in some respects. He forced himself not to though. He had to remind himself that this technically wasn't Cas. This man didn't remember anything, and now was not the time or place to tell him. Sam wasn't even sure if he should tell him at all.

“Where is he?” Emanuel asked, bringing Sam back to the moment.

“He isn't...ah... He wasn't well enough to make the trip. I was kinda hoping you would come to him. It's a bit of a drive, but he really needs your help.”

The healer nodded.

“Of course I will go to him, if you can drive me there.”

Sam nodded vigorously. No matter what it took, he had to get Cas back to Dean.

 

Bobby was getting anxious waiting for Sam to call and let him know what was happening. Dean was not improving. It was like he'd had a lid on his emotions, and now that it was open, it couldn't be shut. Dean was just sinking deeper and deeper, withdrawing more and more. That was probably what concerned Bobby the most. When the eldest of the Winchester boys had problems before, he'd become violent, short tempered and sarcastic. He went out and started fights to work off some steam, things like that. He didn't sit around feeling sorry for himself.

“That angel sure did a number on him.” Bobby thought as he headed upstairs to force feed the depressed hunter a burger and some soda. He knew it wasn't the healthiest thing, but it was better than Dean living off beer and whatever was in that flask.  
After Bobby had sat on the couch with Dean and watched him down most of the burger and all of the pop, he went downstairs and outside to call Sam again.

 

Sam sat in his idling truck, fingers thrumming on the wheel, anxiously waiting for Emanuel to come out of the house. The last time Sam had seen his brother, Dean had been sleeping off his latest hangover, and from what Bobby had told him last night, Dean had spent the better part of the day curled over a bucket. He hoped that today Bobby might be able to get some water in his brother's system, and maybe some proper food too. They had to be running low on whiskey and beer by now, and there was no way the older hunter would supply Dean with more, or let him go into town himself. Sam heard his phone ring and checked the caller ID. Bobby. The Winchester was about to answer, when he saw the healer walking towards the truck. He couldn't tell Bobby what was going on with Cas/Emanuel in the passenger seat, so he decided to stop in a town for gas on the way back and give Bobby a heads up then.  
Emanuel settled himself into the seat, and waited for Sam to start driving. The Winchester knew this was going to be an awkward ride, for him at least, but he aimed to try and figure out how Cas had survived the leviathans, and what he'd been doing the past couple months.

 

“Balls!” Bobby groaned when Sam didn't answer for the third time. It was never a good sign when a hunter didn't answer their phone, and knowing Sam, it was unlikely he had simply lost it. Bobby wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it made him nervous. He didn't like being out of the know, and it wasn't like he could leave Dean and go look for Sam himself. Right now, the oldest of the Winchester brothers needed him most.

 

Dean drifted in and out of consciousness, only partially aware of what was going on around him. He'd woken up somewhat when he'd heard a phone ringing, the next thing he knew, it was dark out and Bobby was waking him up, a bag of greasy, stick to your stomach food in his hand.  
Dean had forced himself to eat and drink, for Bobby's sake, but he was still drunk, and he hadn't slept well in weeks. It was a wonder he had made it this far without just passing out already.  
After he ate, his stomach seemed unsure of whether or not it was going to reject the food. Dean had booked it to the bathroom on one particularly worrying bout of nausea, but thankfully, it had been a false alarm. He didn't think he could take throwing up one more time today.  
Laying back down on the couch upstairs, he finally gave in to the urge to blackout, sinking into its warm oblivion.

The whole night he was plagued by dreams of his angel walking into that river, and never coming back out. It was torture, but his body needed sleep too much to let him wake up, and he was forced to watch the image replay over and over for what felt like hours.

 

“So, how did you become a healer?” Sam asked Emanuel, glancing at the man beside him, before focusing on the road ahead again.

They had been driving for an hour or so, the whole time the Winchester had been trying to figure out how to approach the subject without being too direct. Emanuel wasn't being much help. Whether or not he remembered his life before, he still didn't understand uncomfortable silence, and never attempted to break it, thus giving Sam an easier opening to start his questions. So, finally, the older Winchester had bitten the bullet and just jumped right into it. He needed to figure out what had happened to Cas.  
Emanuel seemed a little surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered. Just as Cas had been, his face remained nearly void of emotion as he spoke.

“Oh, it's a strange story, you may not like it.”

Sam shot him a quick glance before focusing on the road again.

“Trust me, I will.”

The angel nodded in acceptance.

“A few months ago, Amelia was hiking through the woods nearby, and she found me wandering. Drenched and confused and...unclothed.”

That may have been the closest thing to embarrassment Sam had ever heard from the angel. It was too dark in the truck t tell, but Sam thought Cas might have even blushed a little.

“I didn't remember anything before that. But she took me in and cared for me. Soon after, we found that I had...abilities.”

Sam nodded. It made sense. Emanuel, Cas, whoever he was, was still an angel, of course he could heal people. The fact that he didn't know who he really was, or what he had done... That was a more difficult topic to broach just yet. Maybe Cas would remember when he saw Dean? A nagging voice in the back of the hunter's mind traitorously whispered; “What if he doesn't?” Sam tried not to think of that possibility. How would this affect Dean if he found out Cas was alive, but didn't remember anything? Would he get worse?  
Sam decided he needed to change the subject soon, before he outright told Castiel everything and pleaded with him to remember.

“So who named you Emanuel?”

The angel watched the road as he answered.

“Bouncing baby names dot com.”

“......Alright.”

Sam decided he would pull into the next gas station to call Bobby.

“So, you don't remember anything before Amelia found you?”

The unknowing angel shook his head. His voice calm as ever when he replied.

“No. Sometimes that bothers me, but I made a life for myself, and it's a good life.”

Sam felt something in his chest twinge at that.

“Well yeah, but...what if you were some kind of...I don't know, bad guy?”

Emanuel seemed to think about that for a moment. His reply was slow when it finally came, as if he were considering his answer as he gave it.

“I don't feel like a bad person.” he finally said.

Sam didn't know what to say to that, so he opted for silence. Then the healer spoke again, changing the subject.

“So, your brother...”

“Dean.” Sam supplied, watching the angel out of the corner of his eye for a possible reaction. There was none.

“Dean. What's his condition?”

Sam had half expected some sort or recognition from Cas at hearing his brother's name, but when there wasn't one, his heart sank a little further.  
He hesitated at the question, searching for the correct answer. What was Dean's condition? It was also possible it had worsened since he left, and that whatever Sam described might be better than how his brother currently was.

“It's, uh...not exactly physical.”

The healer nodded, taking in this information.

“That shouldn't be a problem, I can cure certain illnesses of the mind too. Many mental issues are caused by chemical imbalances in the brain. Once those are remedied, often the problem goes away What 'exactly' would you say it is?”

Sam sighed.

“Honestly? I'd say he was heart broken, but let's go with some form of depression.”

Now Emanuel was curious.

“Heart broken?”

Sam's eyes shifted out the driver side window, he didn't want to remember hearing Dean cry, or seeing his brother shut himself off from the world like he had.

“Yeah, uh...the, uh...the guy my brother was...” Sam was going to say 'in love with', but Dean had never told Cas he loved him, and Sam figured his brother should be the one to tell the angel first, if Cas ever got his memories back. “My brother's boyfriend...” he finally said, though the words sounded strange to say out loud. “...betrayed him and lied to him, then something bad happened to him and...After that, Dean kind of went into a downward spiral. The last time I saw him was yesterday, he had barely eaten or slept in days, and was living off bourbon. The only one who can get him to eat anything is Bobby, he's a friend of ours who is over there now. Man, Cas sure did a number on him." Sam mumbled the last bit to himself, but Castiel still heard it anyway.

Emanuel seemed unfazed by Sam telling him that his brother had been with a guy, though why should he be? Technically, Emanuel/Castiel was the man Dean had loved and been loved by.

“You sound upset.”

“Well, yeah. The guy broke my brother.”

There was another silence for a few minutes, before Emanuel spoke again.

“Your brother's boyfriend's name was Cas? That's a strange name.” Emanuel smirked.

Sam didn't have it in him to smile back, he was too worried about his big brother.

 

They drove for a few more minutes in silence before Sam spotted a gas station up the road. Deciding now was as good a time as any to call Bobby, he pulled in and told Emanuel to wait in the truck while he went to pay for gas.  
Sam entered the store, a little bell above the door ringing as he did. He uninterestedly browsed through magazines and candy, waiting for the cashier to return. He intended to get fuel, then sneak around back and call Bobby, but before he could do any of that, the cashier returned. Eyes completely black.

“Great.” Sam muttered, already pulling out his demon blade and getting into a fight stance.

 

He took out the demon easily, and dragged the body of the poor guy it had possessed behind the counter, out of sight of the door in case someone came in and saw the scene before he left. He quickly swiped the tapes from the cameras, smashing them with a stomp. It was a little sad he knew how to handle these situations so calmly, but it wasn't like he'd never been in them before.  
Deciding to just leave and call Bobby from somewhere else, Sam turned and started for the door. His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and for a moment, he thought about ignoring it, but he didn't see anyone else in the parking lot or even on the highway. Cas was still in the truck, patiently waiting. He was alone, and Bobby had been calling all day... The hunter picked up on the second ring.

“I've been calling you for hours, you damn idjit! What's going on?” Bobby's agitated voice yelled through the tiny speakers, and Sam flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear, or be deafened. Ignoring the annoyance in his friend's voice, he stayed calm. He didn't have a lot of time, but he might as well tell Bobby now.

“Bobby, get this. The faith healer, it's him.”

“Him who?”

“Him. Bobby, it's Cas!”

There was a pause and some shuffling on the other end of the line. Sam heard a squeaky door open and slam shut, he guessed Bobby had stepped outside.

“How can it be him? He died, Sam. You saw him walk into the river yourself.”

Sam had his back to the door, slowly pacing and subconsciously checking for anything at the scene that could be linked to him. Once, he'd almost dropped his wallet at a scene like this. Thankfully, Dean had snatched it before they left, otherwise they would had gotten in deep shit. From the cops and John.  
Listening to Bobby and scanning the crime scene, Sam didn't hear the soft tinkling of the bell above the door as someone entered. He didn't realize that he wasn't alone anymore.

“I know, we all did. Look, I wouldn't have said anything unless I was sure, okay? It's him. He's just...different.”

“Different how?”

Sam paused.

“He doesn't remember anything.”

“Nothing?” Bobby asked, his voice just a tad higher than normal, and full of surprise.

“Nothing since some woman found him in the woods. Look, I don't get it either. I don't get how he could forget what he did to us. Especially to Dean? After everything-”

“What I did? What did I do to Dean?”

Sam spun around at the new voice. Emanuel was standing just inside the door, wide eyed and... He almost looked scared.

“Bobby, I'm gonna have to call you back.” Sam said, hanging up the phone without waiting for a reply. He stood frozen in place, uncertain of what to do now.

“Sam, am I- Am I Cas?” Emanuel choked out, looking devastated at the possibility. And rightly so. From what he'd heard, Cas seemed awful. He supposedly wrecked another human being. Betrayed him and sent him into a depression. How could he have done something like that and not remember it?  
Sam was at a loss for words. How could he possibly explain how complicated this all was, if Castiel didn't remember a thing?

Before anyone could say anything else, two more demons came into the store, eyes black and lips smiling. As Emanuel half jumped, half stumbled out of the way, the hunter grabbed his knife and got ready. The black eyed monsters slammed him against the wall with a thought, ignoring Emanuel completely. The hunter only hoped he had the sense to run. He'd only known Sam a day, and already he'd seen three demons. He should know to get the hell out of dodge at that point. Sam could only guess that the demons were after Cas. Crowly must have gotten wind that the angel was still alive, and had started sending his minions to try and collect him. The Winchester was sure the angel's betrayal had not been forgotten by the King of Hell.  
When Sam hit the wall, he dropped the knife, and watched as the demons proceeded to kick it away. The Winchester knew he was in trouble now.  
Suddenly, a bright white light shone out from the eyes and mouths of the possessed man and woman. Sam had seen that too many times not to know that an angel had just done some serious smiting. The two smoking bodies fell to the floor, leaving Emanuel standing behind them, stone faced and calm. He turned to Sam, and something in his look was different. He was more rigid, stood up straighter. It seemed more... familiar.

“Sam, I... I remember now. Everything.”

Sam could only stare wide eyed at the angel and babble nonsense, trying to figure everything out, or at least ask a question.

“How did..? But you- How did you...?”

Sam finally gave up and dumbly gestured to the bodies on the floor. Cas looked to the two dead humans on the floor, and the hunter watched as the angel's eyes followed a streak of blood that lead around the back of the counter. Quite clearly a drag line. His eyes widened marginally, anyone other than one of the brother's wouldn't have seen it. Cas seemed to get over the third death quickly, turning back instead to the hunter.

“I saw at the demons and it was almost instinctual, I knew I could kill them. When I smote them, my memories came back.” he explained, as if reading from a text book. As if this was the sorta thing that happened all the time, and he was merely explaining it, rather than just figuring it out himself. His hard gaze softened a bit before he spoke again. “Sam, I am so sorry for what I did to you, I should never have broken your wall. I will try to fix you.”

Sam stood and grabbed the demon blade off the floor, unable to stop himself from fixing the angel with a cold, angry glare. "It's not me you need to apologize to.” Dusting himself off, he brushed past Cas and headed for the door. “We need to get to Dean.” he threw over his shoulder, not waiting for an answer or the angel to follow as he left the store.

 

Sam didn't speak to Cas while they wiped down the truck for prints. They planned on the angel transporting them back to the cabin, so Sam was just gonna ditch the truck here. It was time for a different one anyways. This truck wasn't worth much, and he doubted the owner was too beat up over losing it, but the last thing the brothers needed now was more attention from the cops. Switching vehicles often and randomly was a good way to help avoid that. Plus, ditching the truck here and then leaving without stealing another car would hopefully throw the local police off their scent for a bit. At the very least, it would help keep attention away from where they were actually camped out.  
Sam was pissed. Some of that was because of what the angel had done to him, made him remember Hell and start hallucinating about Lucifer, but mostly it was for what Castiel had done to Dean. He had lied to him, betrayed him, he even threatened to kill him at one point. How could anyone do that to someone they love?

“Cas?” Sam broke the painful silence. 

The angel looked up from methodically wiping down the door. He could see Sam was standing now, leaning on the roof of the truck. There was anger in the hunter's eyes, and with good reason. Cas stood up as well and turned his full attention to Sam.

“Yes, Sam?”

“Did you love Dean?”

The hunter was direct and to the point, no beating around the bush. He wanted answers. Now. There was barely restrained anger in his voice, as if he could snap at any moment.  
The way Sam said it sounded like he already knew the answer and was just looking for confirmation. The angel was a little taken back by the question. Did Sam know about him and Dean? It wouldn't bother Cas if he did, other than he knew Dean had wanted to keep it a secret for now.

“Do you mean as a friend?” he finally asked tentatively.

Sam shook his head.

“Look, I know what you two were to each other, Dean told me. He also told me you loved him. I need to know, did you?”

There was no defensiveness in Castiel's voice when he spoke next. He sounded calm, simply stating a true fact.

“Of course I did. I still do. I have never felt what I feel for your brother for anyone else.”

“Then how could you betray him like that?” Sam's voice was loud and furious. Something akin to confusion showed on his face as he waited for the angel to respond. Castiel fought to stay calm.

“Sam, I know I owe you an explanation, but I feel that I should speak with Dean first. If his condition is as bad as you say,” Cas looked down ashamedly. “...then he needs help soon.”

Sam sighed, forcing himself to calm down slightly. He took a few deep breathes to control himself, then finished wiping down the inside of the truck so he and Cas could leave. He decided to call Bobby quickly and let him know that Castiel had his memory back.

 

Bobby was pacing the living room, trying to make sense of what Sam had told him over the phone.

“So that feathery bastard is alive and remembers now?”

Bobby wondered if he should tell Dean now, or let Cas do it himself. He decided that the angel and Sam would be back soon enough, it should be up to Castiel to tell Dean he was still alive. Besides, the oldest Winchester was sleeping right now. Well, blacked out is more like it.  
Bobby had actually been getting Dean to eat food at least twice a day now, but he couldn't stop the booze intake. The best he could do was dump the stuff he found. He didn't know where it was all coming from, he'd quite buying it when he saw how the oldest Winchester was downing it. Dean must be sneaking out to get it himself at night.  
Bobby went outside to wipe off the angel proofing so Cas could come in, and check that the other sigils were still in place. Some had been faded by the rain and wind, but for the most part the paint was still doing its job. It they were gonna stay here much longer, Bobby was gonna carve the sigils into the cabin walls, like the Anasazi symbols on the trees.  
When he got back inside, he was about to go check on Dean, when the heavy flap of wings announced the arrival of the angel and Sam. Bobby turned and saw Cas, not quite sure he believed the guy was really here.  
The angel looked different without his suit and trench coat, but it was still Castiel, angel of Thursday. A little less scrawny, a little more scruffy, but pretty much the same. The hunter would have been glad to see him, if he wasn't so painfully aware of what Cas had done to Dean. Right now the only thing stopping Bobby from taking a swing at him was knowing that it wouldn't hurt the angel even slightly.  
Sam didn't look too happy either, and he was still waiting for an explanation the angel hadn't given.

“Hello, Bobby.” Cas greeted. It wasn't warm or friendly, simply polite, and a little cautious.

“Cas.” Bobby acknowledged, his toned and measured and firm. There was no way in Hell he was trusting the angel yet.

“Where is Dean?” Cas asked as he looked around. Due to his shame and guilt, he hadn't realized exactly how much he wanted to see the hunter until he was so close. From here, he could sense Dean's presence, but couldn't pinpoint exactly where he was.  
Bobby paused and looked Castiel over, though he wasn't sure for what. He finally replied, his tone still cautious. After all, the last time he had seen Castiel, the angel had threatened to kill them all.

“He passed out about an hour ago. You should wait until morning to talk to him.”

Cas nodded. He really wanted to see Dean now so he could help him and try to explain himself, but if Bobby thought it best to leave him alone for the night, then that's what the angel would do. He also knew that it was partially for Bobby's benefit as well. The older hunter was observing him, deciding whether or not to trust him again, and Cas knew it was best to tread carefully for the next few weeks, if Dean even let him stay that long.

 

Sam went to sleep soon, but Bobby stayed up. He needed to talk to Castiel. Leaning back against the table and crossing his arms, he fixed Cas with a cold glare.  
The angel could only imagine what Bobby must think of him now, how he must feel, but Cas wanted the chance to try and explain. He would much rather talk to Dean first, but he was also aware that there was no way Bobby would let him leave without some idea of what happened and why the angel had let it happen. He owned him that much.

“Alright, Cas. You've got a lot of explaining to do. For starters, how the hell are you alive?”

Cas was silent for some time. He been wondering the same thing himself ever since he realized he'd walked into that lake practically dripping leviathans. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not quite sure what to do with himself. He'd never felt so self conscience or awkward before.

“I don't know. As I told Sam, I was found in the woods. I remember walking into the river, and then then the next thing I can remember is Amelia finding me. I don't know how I lived, or why.”

Bobby's face kept it's hard set. He was pissed, and had every right to be. Dean, who was like a son to the older hunter, was a mess, and all because of this angel.

“Do you know what you did to Dean when you stabbed him in the back like that and he found out you were working with Crowley? Or when you went dark side after taking in all those souls? I don't even know how badly he's holding up, because half of the time he's drunk, and the other half he's passed out or might as well be. He's a goddamn mess because of you Cas!”

Castiel felt tears build behind his eyes at the hunter's outburst, hot and insistent, but he held them back. He had never meant to hurt Dean. Working with that demon just seemed like the only way to stop Raphael from unravelling all the work the brothers had done to stop the Apocalypse. Castiel hadn't thought the leviathans would be strong enough to take control of him like that, or that he would go power crazy. He was ashamed of how he'd acted, and what he'd done to his friends and family. Cas certainly had never wanted to cause any of them pain, especially not Dean.  
Bobby could tell Cas was on the verge of crying, and it surprised him to see the angel, who was usually so controlled and stoic, become that emotional. For a split second he almost let up a little, but then he remembered seeing Dean the last time he checked on him. The younger hunter had been passed out on the bed upstairs, fully clothed, boots included, curled up under the angel's trench coat. His cheeks streaked and his eyes red and puffy, even in his sleep.  
Bobby shook his head, wishing he could rid himself of that memory. The boy was like a son to him, no parent ever wants to see their kid go through something like that. And though Bobby didn't know exactly how Dean felt, because the circumstances had been drastically different, the gruff hunter did know how it felt to lose someone you love like that. It wasn't something that he would ever wish on anybody.

“Just...make sure you talk to him tomorrow. You can stay here tonight.” he said before stalking off.

 

Dean began to stir late the next morning. He could feel sunshine on his face, warm and bright, steaming in from the window above the bed. For a split second before he opened his eyes, he almost thought today might be a good day. Then the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave, just like they always did.  
Dean sighed, briefly contemplating trying to fall back asleep. Strangely, he didn't feel like he usually did after a night of heavy drinking. No headache, no cotton mouth, no upset stomach. He almost felt like he'd simply fallen asleep, rather than blacked out.  
Groaning as he moved to stretch stiff muscles, he heard the bed beneath him creak and strain under the weight. He slowly became aware of a warm, pleasant weight against his back and around his waist. It felt so familiar, so comforting, so full of love that Dean was sure this must be a dream. Yup, a dream. That's why he didn't have a hangover, and why there was actually sunlight in the room. Even half asleep, he knew that last night the only window in here had been covered up with a towel. Still, even as he convinced himself he was dreaming, the warm embraced didn't fade away. He could swear this is what it used to feel like when Cas held him. That's when Dean noticed the smell. It almost smelt like...but it couldn't be. It smelt like Cas.

“I must just be smelling the trench coat.” Dean thought at first. But as he woke up more, he realized the smell from the coat had been long gone, and this was stronger and different. It smelt like Cas, like his angel, but it couldn't be...  
Dean turned as much as he could on the bed without bumping whatever was behind him. Blinking his eyes open, he found himself face to face with a sleeping Castiel. The angel had his arm flopped over Dean, and was snuggled against the hunter as close as he could get. He looked peaceful, content.  
As if sensing he was being watched, Cas slowly opened his eyes and looked at Dean. The hunter stared back in opened mouthed, wide eyed shock. His brain just simply stopped working. He didn't even have the wherewithal to jump off the bed, to immediately assume this was a shifter or maybe a siren. He was frozen in place, staring into eyes he never thought he'd see again.  
Castiel watched Dean carefully, ready for anger or confusion. He knew this wasn't exactly the best way for Dean to find out he was still alive, but he hadn't been able to stay away.

After Bobby and Sam had fallen asleep, Castiel had decided to meditate until morning. It was a state similar to sleeping for angels, except they were still completely aware of their surroundings. Perhaps, a little too much in Castiel's case.  
Cas had only been meditating for a few minutes, he'd only just evened out his breathing and relax his vessel, as well as his true from within his vessel, when his expanded mind had picked up on Dean. In this state, he could feel the hunter's pain, his restless sleep, the beginnings of what would soon become a horrible hangover. Despite what Bobby had said about leaving Dean until morning, every fibre in the angel had told him to go to the hunter. Withing seconds, his choice had been made, and he carefully made his way up the creaking steps of the old cabin, following the pull of Dean's anguish.  
When he'd seen the hunter again for the first time him months, curled up under his old trench coat, he'd wanted to run to him, to wrap him up in his arms and wings and never let go. He watched the hunter frown in his sleep, curling in on himself a little as his stomach began to hurt and clench, preparing to try and expel what little food was in it, floating around in copious amounts of whiskey, beer, and brandy. Without thinking about it, Castiel reached out and gently ran his fingers over the hunter's forehead, trailing them down his cheek in a gesture Dean would have called sappy. As the angel ran his fingers down the hunter's face, he pushed a small amount of his grace down his arm and through his hand, concentrating on letting it seep into the hunter's body. It curled around his stomach, ridding it of what alcohol was still in it. He then directed it to Dean's overworked liver, clearing it of the booze it was trying to digest. Finally, as he pulled his grace back out, he trailed it over the hunter's temples, stopping his headache before it could even start.  
Dean immediately drifted into a deeper sleep, his face smoothing out and the tension in his body seeping out as he slumped further onto the bed.  
Cas knew he should leave now. He knew he should go back downstairs and wait until morning to talk to the Winchester, but he just couldn't. He couldn't make himself leave Dean. And, still coming out of his meditative state, Castiel could feel fear building inside his hunter, slow but steady and constant.  
Dean had had nightmares for most of his life. When he was little, they were about losing his mom, about his dad telling him about all the monsters out there in the dark, about not being able to protect Sam while John was gone. Then, as he got older, the nightmares had lessened quite a bit. Every once in a while, if a hunt had been particularly risky or close, he would dream about how much worse it could have gone. Still, he'd always managed to eventually shake stuff like that off and move on to the next hunt. His nightmares had only become nearly nightly in the past four years or so, right after he got back from Hell. It seemed like that had opened up the floodgate, and any fears he'd ever repressed, even childhood ones, would often fill his head while he slept at night. That is, if Alastair and the Pit didn't get there first.  
However, Castiel had noticed that Dean could usually sleep through his nightly torments when they had shared a bed. It hadn't been often that they'd had that option, but Dean had confided in him once that, even if it was in the back of the Impala or squeezed together on some shitty motel couch, the nights that the angel stayed, he slept better than he had in years.  
And now, here Cas was, watching the man he loved in the throes of a nightmare, already twitching and shifting, his face scrunched up in what looked like pain and a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead and neck. After all the grief he'd caused him, all the worrying, all the anger and tears and hurt, all the times he hadn't gotten there in time, Castiel was back. He hadn't been able to save Dean from the horrors of Hell before they affected him permanently, he hadn't been able to help prevent Sam from releasing Lucifer and jumping in the Cage, leaving Dean alone, he hadn't been able to keep Dean out of hunting and living a relatively normal life on his own, but this, he could do something about this.  
So, he'd carefully so as not to wake the hunter, crawled up on the bed behind Dean and wrapped an arm around him. Almost instantly, the hunter had settled down once more and relaxed back into a deep sleep. Cas smiled to himself and wiggled in a little closer, taking in the warmth and feel of his hunter again.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. His plan had been to stay until he was sure Dean was okay, then he was going to leave and go back downstairs to wait for morning to come. But being back, being with Dean, holding him in his arms again, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so euphoric, so good. He'd drifted off too.  
And now his hunter was awake and undoubtedly had many questions. Castiel realized Dean was somewhat in shock, and it was probably best if he started this conversation for him.

“Hello, Dean.”

It was that same deep, gravely tone, the same voice that to anyone else would sound monotone, but to Dean sounded hopeful and a little cautious.  
He tried to say something, but just ended up opening and closing his mouth dumbly. He finally found his voice.

“Cas?”

It was almost a whisper, and it sounded strange to him. It was laced with disbelief and a cautious hope. His mouth was suddenly dry, and his tongue felt thick and heavy.

“How...but...how are you...?”

Cas broke eye contact for a moment as he shook his head.

“I don't know. But I am, and I'm here.”

Dean slowly reached out a trembling hand, as if to cup Castiel's face, but stopped short and pulled back. With a sudden burst of energy he hadn't had in weeks, he flung himself off the bed and back peddled away from the angel. This was all too much. It was all too much. The rush of different emotions Dean felt at finding out that Cas was alive was too intense. It made him feel unbalanced and overwhelmed. He felt heady and shaky, and only then did he vaguely notice how badly his hands were shaking.  
Unable to stand still any longer, the hunter flung the door open, ignoring the way it hit the wall with a bang and bounced back against his side. He looked back at the angel one more time, before he ran out. He took the stairs two at a time, miraculously not tripping and breaking his neck on the way down. Once he hit the main floor, he would have ran right out the door if Sam hadn't stopped him, a firm grip on his shoulder holding him for the moment.

“Whoa, Dean, slow down man. What's going on?”

The puppy dog eyes and concerned tone stopped him short for a second. Sam held his hand firm on Dean's shoulder to keep his brother from running out anyways.

“Is that really him?” Dean demanded, not believing for a second that Sam didn't know about this.

“Dean, what-?”

“Is that him?!” Dean demanded again, his voice a mixture of angry and pleading.

Sam's eyes widened and he gaped at his brother for a moment, before his gaze briefly flicked to the staircase, and then over to the empty living room. Where Cas had been when they'd all gone to sleep but was now obviously absent from.

“Yes.” he finally said. He watched as emotions he couldn't read flashed across his brother's face in seconds. Dean finally seemed to make up his mind about what to do, and he shouldered past Sam and out the front door, letting it slam behind him.

Sam heard his brother's car spray gravel as he sped away, just as Cas slowly came down the stairs, a somber look on his face. Now this was making more sense.  
Cas seemed shocked at Dean's reaction, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. He looked just as devastated as yesterday when he'd found out who he was.

“He...he just...when he saw me he...it was like he couldn't stand to be near me.” the angel said slowly, more to himself that anything. His eyes were glazed over as his mind replayed the last thirty seconds over and over in his mind. “Sam, does he hate me?” he asked, now looking desperately to the younger Winchester.

Sam wasn't sure what to say. He honestly wasn't sure how Dean felt about Castiel after everything, especially what had just transpired moments ago. He struggled to find the right words. Despite everything, this was still Cas. Still his friend and his brother's...whatever. He still wanted to be able comfort him and tell him everything was gonna be okay.  
Thankfully, Bobby chose that moment to enter the room. He strode in, shot gun in hand and started rifling through his makeshift desk. He continued to do so as he spoke, periodically looking behind him at the angel.

“He doesn't hate you, ya idjit. That boy cares about you more then you know. But how would you feel if you thought he was dead for months then you woke up one morning and he was just there? Give him some time to sort himself out.”

Cas tried to calm himself down, tried to rationalize that Bobby was probably right. He took in deep breaths before looking to the older hunter and nodding.

“I will give him time.”

The angel went back upstairs to the room the older Winchester had been staying in. Up the stairs and the first and only door on the left. Castiel entered the room and looked around.  
It looked so different in the daylight. It smelt like his hunter, a mixture of booze, sweat and something purely Dean. Castiel scrutinized the room. Last night it had been too dark, and this morning...well, the room had been the last thing on his mind.  
Beer, whisky and bourbon bottles littered the wooden flood, as well as dirty clothes and some empty or nearly empty boxes and bags of food. There was a couch in one corner that was well used and stained, and a bed closer to the middle of the room. Other than that, it was bare. The walls looked like they had been white originally, but now they were faded and so dirty and streaked they looked grey and brown. The room was dingy and dark, the air was stale, despite the fact someone had been living here for a few weeks. There was one window on the east wall, and towel that Used to cover most of it now hung askew, only letting in a small stream of light that landed directly on the bed.  
Cas' eyes stopped roaming when he saw what was on the bed. He'd seen it last night, but in his reverence in seeing Dean again, his mind had dismissed it before he could really process what he was seeing. In a crumpled heap, dangling halfway to the floor, was his trench coat.  
Cas knew that Dean travelled a lot, switched cars, safe houses, everything, and the angel was so touched that his hunter had kept the coat throughout all of that. That each time he'd switched car, he'd gone into the trunk or backseat, taken the over coat out, and then put it in his next vehicle. It gave Castiel hope that he and Dean might still be able to get through this after all. Dean wouldn't have kept the coat if he didn't still care on some level.  
The angel ran his finger tips over the materiel. It was dirty and stained black and red from the last time he's ever worn it, when he'd walked into that lake. Dean wouldn't wash it because he'd wanted it left the way his angel had left it.  
Castiel shrugged off the blue sweater he had been wearing since Sam picked him up yesterday, one that Amelia had given him. She said it used to belong to her husband. Castiel hadn't missed the sadness in her voice when she spoke of him. Later, she'd told him that her husband had died in a car crash a few weeks earlier. The day she'd found Cas, she'd been out hiking her and her late husband's favourite trail, spreading his ashes. Castiel had felt sorry for her loss, and despite his social awkwardness, had done his best to comfort her as a friend might.  
He now folded that blue sweater neatly and set it on the bed, deciding he would return to thank Emilia for all she had done for him, and to give her the sweater back when he said goodbye. He then grabbed the trench coat and shrugging it on. It felt familiar, and more suiting for his vessel. Castiel wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to go see Dean, but he knew the hunter needed time to process everything on his own before he could face Cas. Going to see him now might only push him away more, and at the very least it would make this a lot harder for everyone involved. The angel decided now was as good a time as any to go see Emilia as he'd said he would. Before he left, he made Sam swear to pray if Dean came back before Castiel returned. Cas didn't want him thinking he'd left again.

 

It didn't take Dean long to find a bar in town. He had thought about just buying some hard booze at a store, but he couldn't go back to the cabin yet, and he wasn't about to sit in his car drinking. He wasn't quite that pathetic. No yet at least.  
The bar was a little more upper class than the ones he could usually afford. Smooth, black wooden flooring and a flat black counter top was highlighted by hanging lights with silver shades and deep red, fake leather covering the stools and booth benches. Despite it's upscale look, it still had that beer, peanuts and sweat stench to it, like most of the bars he went to did. Dean didn't mind. It was almost comforting, in a way. Kinda like cheap motels. If you've seen one, you've see 'em all. It gave him a sense of familiarity when he moved around all the time.

The place was empty when he walked in, other then the bartender. She was about twenty six, she wasn't heavy set but any stretch, but she certainly wasn't a bean pole either, and had blond hair pulled back into a high pony tail. She gave him a surprised look. No one came to a bar at ten o'clock in the morning. Technically they weren't even open till six tonight.

“Sir? The bar is closed. Did you forget something here?”

Dean shook his head.

“No, but I really need a drink.”

The girl, her name tag said Beth, was about to tell Dean to leave, but she hesitated. For the first time since he came in, she really looked him over. He looked like he hadn't slept well in months, he had dark circles under his eyes and slouched and wobbled a little even when he stood. He looked sad and angry and confused all at the same time, but there was also something about him that she couldn't quite place. Beth only hesitated a moment longer before she grabbed a shot glass and a bottle from under the counter.

“Yes you do.”

Dean walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool near Beth. She passed him the shot glass, filled to the brim with a golden liquid. Dean smelled it, but couldn't place what was in it.

“What is this stuff?”

Beth poured a second shot and replied as she slid it over to him.

“Effective.”

Dean shrugged and downed the liquor in one swallow. The bitter sweetness burned it's way down his throat. It wasn't unpleasant as far as hard drinks go. It almost had a liqueur taste.

“So, what's your name?” Beth asked him.

The hunter downed the second shot.

“Dean.” he replied, his voice a little raspy from the drink.

“Well, Dean,” she said as she refilled one of the glasses. “I gotta tell you, not many people come in here before eleven asking for a drink. So, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here? Girlfriend trouble?”

Dean took the shot. He wasn't sure what to say, he didn't even know if he should tell Beth anything. He wasn't the type of guy to vent, especially not to strangers, but he got the feeling he could trust her and that she would listen.

“Something like that.” Dean finally said.

Beth nodded. Dean continued.

“They showed up this morning.”

Dean wouldn't say boyfriend. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or ashamed, because he wasn't, he just wasn't about to open up that much to a stranger. Not until he got a better sense of what they were like and who they were. Plus he had never really thought of him and Cas as boyfriends, the term didn't seem to fit. They were just...them. Beth was confused.

“Why is that a bad thing? Her showing up?”

Dean wished for another shot. He didn't correct the use of the word 'her'.

“Up until they showed up this morning, I thought they had been dead for months.”

Beth wasn't sure how to react to that. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She had about a million questions, but couldn't get any of them out. She tried to imagine how she would feel if she thought her boyfriend had died and then he showed up one morning.

“Wow, that's...wow. How...? Why did you think they were dead?”

Dean looked away.

“That's complicated.”

He seemed uncomfortable talking about it, so Beth didn't push for more about that part of the story.

“But if you thought she was dead, why aren't you with her right now? If my guy came back like that, I would be ecstatic. You don't seem all that happy.”

Beth looked at Dean in confusion yet again. He sighed.

“Like I said, it's complicated. Before he died, well, before I thought he died-”

“Sorry. He?” Beth cut in.

Dean realized he had let that slip. He also realized that he didn't care. Clearly whatever he was drinking really was effective.

“Uh....yeah. He. I'm not...it's just...I'm not gay, but I don't know, he's different. I've never even looked at a guy that way before or after him.”

Beth nodded.

“Don't worry, I don't judge. And don't worry about him being the exception. Stuff like that can't be put into quaint little categories, and it isn't a fixed thing. Who you love is who you love.”

Dean regarded Beth for a moment. He was glad she had taken it that well, but at the same time was a little surprised. He hadn't thought people could be that accepting. Unless she had some experience in that area as well? Maybe he'd ask her about it later.

“I was shocked when I saw him.” the hunter went on. “This morning, I mean. I was glad I guess. Hell, I haven't been happier in months. But at the same time...I don't know, I was pissed. He did something that was...I just don't know if I can forgive him.”

Beth nodded and poured another shot. Dean reached for it, but she surprised him by taking it first.

“Did he cheat?” she asked once the shot was done.

“Worse.”

“Steal from you?”

Dean shook his head.

“Worse.”

Beth tried to imagine what could be worse then cheating or stealing, but then, she wasn't a hunter. She didn't know the extent of how bad “worse” could really be.

“Then what?”

Dean chuckled.

“You know, I'm not sure why I'm telling you any of this.”

Beth shrugged.

“That booze is effective and I'm charming as hell?” she teased.

Dean chuckled again, but his tone was more serious and grave when he spoke next.

“He...he saved my life, my brother's life, more times then I can count. He gave up everything and went against everything he thought was right to help me. No one but my own family has ever done that much for me. It takes a lot for me to trust someone completely, he was one of the few people I did. I would have died for him. I cared about him, then he just...threw it all away. Like I meant nothing to him...like what we had meant nothing.”

Dean could feel tears threatening at the corners of his eyes, but refused to cry. Beth poured him another shot which he downed quickly. The blond bartender wanted to help, but she wasn't sure how.

“Look, you don't have to tell me what he did. Hell, you didn't have to tell me anything, I still would've poured you a drink, but let me ask you this; Why did he do whatever it is he did?”

Dean paused. Cas had been trying to open Purgatory to get the souls so he could defeat Rafael, but the hunter had never really thought past that.

Castiel had been trying to defeat his older brother because Rafael wanted to start the Apocalypses again, and everyone Dean and Sam had lost and everything they had sacrificed would have been for nothing. The angel of Thursday hadn't gone to Dean for help, because the hunter had already give so much, how could Castiel ask him to give more? Dean realized that through everything, his angel had still just been trying to help him.

“He did what he did...for me. And my brother. It backfired horribly, but he had good intentions.”

Beth smiled. Dean smiled back. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like there was hope for him and Castiel.  
Suddenly the need to be near the angel was so strong Dean nearly jumped off his chair and ran to the door, but stopped short. He turned to Beth.

“I gotta go. Listen, Beth, um...thank you.”

Dean started to fish around in his wallet, but Beth stopped him, holding up a hand in refusal.

“Drinks are on me.”

Dean smiled and nodded. He was at the door when Beth spoke up again.

“Happy I could help. Good luck, Dean. I hope everything works out for you and...?”

“Cas. His name is Cas.”

And with that Dean hurried out the door. Beth went back to cleaning up the bar, but started giggling.

“His boyfriend's name is Cas? That's a strange name.”

 

Dean drove as fast as his shitty little car would go on the grids. He fish tailed it around corners, and on a few stretches that were still wet from the rain a couple days ago he'd nearly spun sideways, but he didn't care. Right now he just wanted to see Castiel again, tell his angel that he loved him and that he understood why Cas did what he did.

The drive seemed to take forever, and at the same time it was over too fast. Soon Dean was pulling up to the cabin, his shitty car sputtering, as if it were relieved that they had made it.  
Now that it was in sight, Dean became nervous. What if Cas had left again when Dean panicked and took off? What if the angel didn't still love him? Dean shook his head at that. Cas must still feel something for him, otherwise why would the angel have come back in the first place?  
Dean took in a few deep breaths to try to calm himself, before he got out of the car and made his way inside the cabin.

When he got inside, he saw Sam sitting on the couch, checking his phone with a concerned frown on his face. The younger Winchester looked up when he heard the door close.

“Hey! I've been calling you! Where were you?”

Dean's ignored Sam's concern.

“Is he still here?”

Dean seemed flighty and anxious, Sam knew he wasn't going to get answers from his brother anytime soon. He sighed and looked towards the stairs, glad Cas had returned already nearly half an hour ago.

“He's in your room.”

Dean turned and practically ran up the stairs.

He hesitated again when he reached the door, half expecting to open it and see an empty room. For a moment he though about leaving, but it was a fleeting notion, he wanted so badly to see Castiel again. Dean slowly opened the door and peered inside.  
There was the angel of Thursday, wearing the trench coat, sitting on the hunter's bed, wringing his hands nervously. He looked up when he heard the door open. Relief flashed on his face for a moment, but it was soon taken over by a questioning uncertainty. He watched the hunter carefully, waiting for any indication of what was going to happen next.  
The hunter opened the door more and stepped into the room, briefly glancing around. He noticed that it was brighter now, the angel had taken down the towel. It didn't stink as much either, and Dean quickly realized that was because Cas had cleared out the bottles and take out food, plus the small window was open, letting in a light breeze. The place almost had a welcoming comfort to it now.  
Cas stood up. For a few long moments neither of them were quite sure what to do, they both just stood there and stared awkwardly at each other. Castiel wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what. He also didn't know what conclusion Dean had come to while he was gone, and he didn't want to make things worse than they already were. If Dean had decided that he never wanted to see Castiel again, the angel didn't want to make it harder for him by telling how much he loved him. Likewise, he did not want to jump the conclusion that Dean had decided to call time of death on their relationship, and say something that might make the hunter feel unwanted or rejected.  
Dean made the first move. He covered the distance between him and the angel in a few quick, long strides, his face unreadable. Cas nearly took a step back, not sure what Dean was about to do. Honestly, he'd expected the hunter to take a swing at him. He would deserve it too. Dean reached him quickly, and without hesitation, wrapped his arms tightly around the angel, pulling him into a tight hug. Castiel didn't hesitate to return the embrace just as strongly. Relief flooded though him, making his knees week and his head light and a little fuzzy. He had been just as prepared for Dean to come back angry and yelling. The two wouldn't let go of each other, they both just stood there, shaking in each others' arms, and though Dean couldn't see them, he know Castiel's wings wrapped around him too.

“Cas, I missed you so much.”

Castiel could tell that Dean was crying, he heard it in the blond's voice, but he only held his hunter tighter. Tears clouded the angel's eyes as well.

“Dean, I am so sorry. For everything.”

Dean squeezed Cas tighter, hiding his face in he angel's neck. When he spoke next, it was mumbled into Cas' skin.

“Don't ever make me lose you again.” Surprisingly that didn't sound like a command, it sound like begging.

Cas nodded against Dean, and a fresh burst of tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in the blond's shoulder, inhaling a scent he hadn't known he'd missed. Neither of them wanted to let go, but they knew that had to at some point. Slowly, they pulled apart. Dean lifted a trembling hand up and cupped Castiel's face, finally allowing himself to do so. His fingers traced Cas' jaw gently, feeling the permanent five o'clock shadow there. The angel leaned into it and closed his eyes, a small smile graced his lips. Dean smiled through the tears of joy running down his face. Castiel opened his eyes and slowly reached a hand up to gently wipe Dean's tears away with his thumb, only to find that his touch triggered more. They both lowered their hands, bringing them back to their sides. Dean took in a few deep breathes to try and calm himself down and stop the tears, when he saw that Cas was crying too.

“Damn it, Cas, stop crying or I won't be able to.” Dean laugh out.

Cas smiled and calmed himself down, wiping his face as his hunter did the same.  
Now that Dean was a little more over the shock, he could take a better look at Cas.  
His angel hadn't changed much, at least, his vessel hadn't. Put on a few more pounds, maybe, but that was about it. He looked good. Well cared for. From what Dean could tell, Castiel had been eating and sleeping at least once in a while. And showering. The angel didn't smell like the Winchesters after a hunt anymore, he smelled clean and fresh, and looked it too.  
Dean, on the other hand, looked worn out and tired, like he hadn't slept well in months. There were dark bags under his eyes, and a slight sluggishness to every movement he made. He had lost some weight, Cas guessed his hunter hadn't eaten properly in a few months either. The smell of booze was stronger on the blond than usual, but it was clear why, if the bottles that had littered the floor were any clue. Castiel's heart sank, he knew that Dean was like this because of him, and he wanted so badly to help.

“Cas, how are you here? How are you alive? What happened?” Dean sounded calm, he was simply in awe that his angel was here, in front of him again.

Castiel's voice was it's usual gruff, gravely tone when he spoke.

“I don't know how I'm alive, Dean. As for what happened and why I'm here, Sam found me.”

Now Dean was confused. How the hell had Sam found Cas? Had he been looking for him? Had he known Cas wasn't dead? Or was it an accident that his brother had found his angel?

“Whoa, whoa. Sam found you? How?”

Cas sighed and sat back down on the bed.

“It's very complicated.”

When Castiel didn't elaborate, Dean prompted him.

“Care to explain?”

Cas nodded.

“When I walked out of that river, I didn't remember a thing. Who I was, what I had done, nothing. Not even you.”

Dean's breath hitched in his chest, he wasn't really sure how to take that. He nodded to show Cas he understood, even though he didn't really. Cas continued anyway, hoping to clear everything up.

“A woman, Amelia, found me and cared for me. A few weeks after I had been living with her, we discovered that I had... abilities, that I could heal people. Of course, I didn't know I was an angel at the time, and neither did she. To us these abilities were simply amazing. I started helping people, healing them. From what I understand, Sam was looking for faith healers and heard about me-”

“Sam was looking for faith healers? What, for me?”

There was anger is Dean's voice. Cas nodded, but he was confused. Why would Dean be angry?  
The Winchester stuck his head out the bedroom door.

“Sam! Get your ass up here!”

Sam hurried up the stairs and into the room when he heard the call, not sure what to expect. The look of anger on his big brother's face directed at him was certainly a surprise.

“Uh...what, Dean?”

“Is it true that you were looking for a faith healer for me?” The anger in Dean's voice was cold and clear. There was also a certain amount of sadness that he tried to hide. The fact that he had pushed Sam to the point where he was desperate enough to ask strangers for help was a sobering one for the older brother.  
Sam replied with a little defensiveness in his voice. He raised his head a little and stood up straighter.

“Yeah, I was.”

Dean's voice rose.

“How could you? After what the last guy did? What if that happened again? You would let some sorry bastard take on what was happening to me?”

“I had to do something, Dean!” Sam wasn't about to back down. “You weren't eating unless Bobby made you, you were drinking more in a day then he does in a week, and you barely slept! You're my brother, I'm always gonna try to help you, and I'm certainly not going to apologize for it!”

Dean glared tensely at his brother. Sam glared back.

Castiel, who had been calm and observant this whole time, was very concerned. He knew Dean must have been in bad shape for Sam to seek out a healer, but the realization fully hit him now. Dean hadn't been getting on with his life. He had tried to, but when all that pain he had been trying to ignore was revealed and become inescapable, he couldn't cope.  
The angel interrupted the two brothers, turning his soft gaze towards Dean, his voice even softer.

“You were prepared to follow me, weren't you? Into death, I mean.”

Dean turned to look at Cas, his gaze immediately softening. Anger left Sam's face, replaced by worry and morbid curiosity as he looked to his brother, needing to know the answer.  
Dean looked down and away from Cas, ashamed of the way he'd acted. He really didn't want to talk about those months he had thought his angel was dead, but he knew he had to tell him the truth.

“Yeah, Cas, I was. I wasn't suicidal, but...I don't know.” He finally looked the angel in the eye. “Maybe some nights I slept with the safety off.”

Sam wasn't sure what to say or do. He hadn't realized Dean had gotten to that point. Uncomfortable heaviness coiled through his gut at the thought of his brother being gone, thinking that the angel was dead too.  
Cas stood and positioned himself in front of Dean, grabbing the hunter's shoulders and looking him in the eye, waiting for green eyes to meet his blue ones. When they did, Castiel spoke.

“Dean, I wish I could take back what I did, what I became, there is nothing I wish I could undo more, but I can't. All I can do is promise that I will never leave you or betray your trust again. I care far to much for you to ever make that same mistake. Now, I am begging you, please, promise me you won't ever be reckless like that again.”

Cas had tears in his eyes, and his voice was shaking with emotion. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Dean.

“I need you.” the angel finished.

The eldest Winchester had tears running down his face now. He looked Cas dead in the eye and took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Cas, I swear that I will do everything in my power to make sure I never leave you. I...” Dean's voice cracked, but he was determined to get the words out, Cas needed to know.

“I love you.”

Castiel's resolve broke. The tears ran down his face, but he was too busy grinning to notice. Even though he had seen it when Dean looked at him, felt it when they were together, it meant so much to the angel that the hunter had finally said it.

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas' voice shook, but this time from joy. He leaned in and rested his forehead against Dean's as his hand left the hunter's shoulder and gripped the back of his head instead.

Sam smiled and quietly turned to leave the room, knowing this was a private moment between the two. He didn't see Cas lean in and meet Dean's lips, or his brother hold the back of the angel's head as he kissed him back gently, but he did hear the quiet moan which made him hurry out of the room a little faster.

Sam made his way downstairs, the smile never leaving his face. He was happy that Dean had his angel back. That in their hard, crazy lives, something was going right. Dean had someone who really understood him and could be there for him.  
Bobby was sitting on the couch, he noticed Sam the second the younger hunter entered the room. He didn't have to ask to understand what had happened, if the dopey grin on the boy's face was any indication, but he did anyway.

“Those two idjits okay?”

Sam's smirk grew and he nodded.

“Yeah, Bobby, I really think they are.”

Bobby smiled. Underneath his gruff exterior, he really was a big softy, and he was glad Dean had someone. He still didn't completely trusted Cas again yet, but he was going to work on that, for Dean's sake. If Cas was really serious about being sorry and trying to make up for it, it wouldn't be too hard.

 

A few weeks later, Dean and Castiel were sitting in a bar, celebrating their most recent successful hunt. A wendigo of all things. Dean wasn't a huge fan of the things, but they were less cleaver and easier to identify than their usually prey. Well, Dean was celebrating, Cas was more the hunter's ride home, seeing as how Sam had dropped them off at the bar and then took the car to go back to the cabin. He hadn't felt like drinking, mostly he just wanted to sleep. Dean could understand that. Sam had been the one to lug the gasoline jug all the way out to the body to finish the job the flare guns had started. A good four or five miles through rough terrain. He was was tired and sore and had told Dean he was going back to the cabin. Dean had just waved him off with a grin, before wrapping an arm around Cas' waist and pulling the angel with him to the bar.  
It was the same bar Dean had stumbled into weeks ago at ten in the morning, asking for a drink because his boyfriend had just come back from the dead.  
Dean had chosen this place so he could see Beth again and let her know everything had worked out, he figured she deserved to know that she had helped. Plus, she had seemed genuinely interested and hopeful for him.

Dean and Cas were sitting up at the counter, talking and laughing easily about nothing in particular. It wasn't too crowded here tonight, a few people were in the nearby booths, a few were mingling on open floor space, and a few other guys were up at the bar a few seats down from the hunter and his angel, talking amongst themselves.  
Beth hadn't notice Dean yet, she was busy serving the guys at the other end of the bar. Once she was done, she made her way towards them, not really paying attention.

“Hey, what can I...Dean?”

Beth grinned at him, she hadn't expected to see him back here. He looked noticeably better, well rested and content. The bags under his eyes had lessened, and his eyes themselves weren't dull and glassy. They had a shine to them, they looked more focused. More importantly he wasn't asking for hard booze at ten in the morning.

Dean smiled back.

“Hey, Beth. Uh, this is Cas.” Dean gestured toward the angel. The blond bartender turned to look at the man in the trench coat beside Dean. She smiled warmly at him.

“Ah, so this is Cas. Nice to meet you.”

She reached a hand out across the counter. Castiel, who now understood this gesture, reached out and shook her hand. She had a firm grip, quickly establishing that she was by no mean meek or timid. Dean respected that.

“Hello, Beth.” Though he didn't smile, and his voice conveyed little emotion, Beth could tell he was friendly. She smiled once more at him before turning to Dean.

“So, what can I get you two?”

“Two beers.” Dean answered cheerfully. Beth grabbed two bottles from the cooler under the counter and slid them over to the couple, before hurrying off to serve the group at a booth.  
Dean was vaguely aware of a group of four guys watching him and Cas from a corner booth, but he shook it off and tried to ignore them. It had been a tough hunt, and he decided he deserved a relaxing drink or two.

 

A few hours later, Cas was piss drunk and barely holding himself up. Dean hadn't really been keeping track of how many drinks the angel had downed, distracted by drinking his own and the easy back and forth conversation, but it must have been a lot for a celestial being to be this smashed.  
Dean decided to call it a night and try to figure out how to get the angel and himself back to the cabin. He didn't trust Cas to mojo them there, and the last thing he wanted was for them to end up in Egypt or something. Yeah, he didn't want to wake up tomorrow on the sphinx. He thanked Beth once more when he paid for the drinks. He had to use of of his fake credit cards this time, because yeah, Cas had had a lot. Dean then hauled a stumbling Castiel out to call either Sam or Bobby for a ride.  
He was so focused on trying to hold Cas up, 'cause the dude was pretty heavy and was tripping on his own feet ever couple steps or so, that he didn't notice the four men from earlier get up and follow them out the door.

 

The parking lot was nearly empty, only two or three cars remained, parked near the building, and Dean figured a couple of those had to belong to the staff.  
Dean was having a hard time holding up Cas with one arm and trying to fish his phone out of his pocket with the other. He almost had it, when he felt something smash hard against the back of his head. Surprise sobered him up and made him let go of the angel as he turned to face his attackers, getting ready for a fight. He noticed the broken bottle on the ground, but ignored it for now. He was pretty sure he wasn't bleeding, just had a killer headache.  
The angel was managing to stand okay on his own, swaying every so often, but he didn't face plant, so Dean focused his attention on assessing the four men moving towards them. They weren't much bigger then himself, but just as in shape, and about the same age. They were all wearing jeans and bad leather jackets, obviously going for the biker look, and failing. Dean nearly snorted at them. He hadn't seen a bike around here these guys would dare lay claim to. The man who seemed to be the leader was a little taller then the rest, bald and fairly buff.  
Dean's mind was racing, trying to figure out if he was dealing with monsters, and if so, what kind, or just people.

“Hey, fags!” the bald one called.

Definitely people, monsters would know who he was and call him by his name. Amazing how your relation to someone changes what's important.  
Dean cast a quick glance at Cas, who was still swaying back and fourth, staring at the ground. The hunter quickly decided the angel wouldn't be much help if this turned into a fight. Which it looked like it was going to. He looked directly at the leader.

“Did you pay your check first? 'Cause you won't be able to after.”

The group of guys laughed. Baldy spoke up, only a couple feet away from Dean now.

“You think you can take me?” he laughed out.

Dean loved when people underestimated him. He grinned a cocky smile, hoping to egg the other guy on.

“I think I could wipe the parking lot with your ass.”

The smile quickly left Baldy's face and he took a blind swing at Dean. The hunter blocked it easily, he had seen it coming, before landing his own upper cut to the guy's stomach. The biker doubled over in pain. Taking advantage of the position Baldy was now in, Dean grabbed his head to keep it in place, before swiftly bring his knee up and hitting the guy square in the jaw, knocking him out cold.  
It was then that the wannabe bikers broke out of their shock and rushed to help. Two of them went to help the leader, while one tackled a swaying Castiel to the ground.

The two that rushed Dean were smaller and obviously very inexperience in fighting. All it took was a few well timed punches and kicks to lay them out on the ground.  
Dean immediately turned to help Cas, who was pinned by some redhead and taking a few solid hits to the face.  
The hunter kicked the man in the side, definitely breaking at least three ribs and cracking a few others. The redhead was shoved off the angel by the force of the kick, and cried out in pain. He tried to get up and was halfway back to his feet when Dean met him with a solid hammer punch, braking the guy's nose and laying him out flat on the ground.  
He rolled onto his stomach and slowly tried to get up, the pain in his side and nose was tremendous. Dean plopped himself down above him, pushing his knee between his shoulders as he grabbed an arm and twisted it up behind the redhead's back, stopping any further movement. He held the guy still and twisted his arm in a slightly different, more painful way, forcing a whimper from the attacker before speaking. His voice was deceptively calm, but there was a dangerous undertone to it as well.

“I'm a literal kind of guy. So that means, when I do this,” the hunter pushed harder on the guy's arm, causing the redhead to whimper more loudly and squirm. "This is me saying that I will literally break your shit off if you ever touch him again. Mmkay, pumpkin?”

“Got it.” the redhead rasped out. Dean nodded, before slowly letting the guy up to help his friends.

The hunter then approached his angel.

“Cas? Hey, Cas, you okay?”

The angel looked up at Dean and smiled.

“Yes, Dean, I'm fine.”

His words were still slurred and messy.

“The feathery bastard probably didn't feel a thing.” Dean thought to himself, before grabbing Cas' arm and helping him up. The angel stumbled and leaned heavily on Dean, but he stayed up. They made their way away from the bar, and the slowly waking up jerks in the parking lot.

Once they were safely at a bus stop a few blocks away, Dean phoned Sam. He asked for a ride, giving his brother directions to where they were now. Sam sighed but said he was on his way.

 

About half an hour later, Dean's stolen car could be heard coming up the street. He was relieved, it wouldn't be too much longer until his angel passed out, and the Winchester just wanted to get them both home.

“Hey, what happened to you two?” Sam asked when he saw the blood on Cas' face and Dean's dishevelled look.

“We, uh, got into a fight with some assholes. Cas wasn't much help, were ya, Cas?” Dean teased.

The angel mumbled something in Enochian that neither Sam nor Dean understood, before his legs gave out and he fell against the car. Sam rushed around to help his brother load the drunk angel into the back seat, both of them grumbling at how heavy he was. Dean climbed in after, saying he would ride with him. Sam smirked and returned to the driver's seat.

 

Castiel's wounds healed themselves on the ride back. By the time they arrived at the cabin, both the angel and his hunter were passed out, sleeping peacefully against each other. Cas with his head resting on Dean's shoulder, and Dean with his head against the angel's. Sam smiled at the two. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but he needed to get them inside. Briefly, his sibling side kicked in and he thought about taking a picture, but quickly decided against it. He gently woke up his brother and helped him carry Castiel inside and to the couch on the main level. Both the Winchesters were too tired to try getting him up the stairs, and Cas really didn't care either way.  
Dean thanked Sam before saying goodnight. The younger brother nodded went to lay down in the other room, while Dean squeezed in between Cas and the back of the couch. It was a tight squeeze, but well worth it. He wrapped one of his arms around the angel's waist and snuggled in closer, enjoying the warmth. Dean sighed. He had Cas, and even though tonight had ended badly, there were still leviathans on the loose, and him and the angel still had some issues to sort out, he was happier than he'd been in a long time.

“I love you.” Dean whispered as he started to drift off. Before he fell asleep, he was sure he heard Cas whisper it back.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to say that I in no way agree with unhealthy relationships like this, where one person simply cannot go on without the other, but, we all know how fiercely Dean loves his family, and I wanted to amplify that with Cas. know the story feels a little forced and unrealistic. I doubt that Sam or Bobby would have looked fora faith healer for Dean's depression, but I needed a way for them to find Cas. This story was kinda planned as I wrote it, so it's a little choppy in some places. I tried to fix that when I read over it again, but it's still a little off. Anyways, I still hope some of you liked it, please kudos or comment if you did.
> 
> My Tumblr: im-here-cause-im-not-all-there98


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